v

"Of course the trouble about you is that you don't love me," said Edgar, in a cool voice which showed that he was anxious by its elaborate calm. "Not, at any rate, as I love you."

"No," agreed Patricia. Her own tone was a copy of his; and the word was a mere acceptance. She was as grave as he, and yet neither was grave. They were both grave and not grave. But Patricia had said "no"; and Edgar had received the shock to which he had steeled himself.

"Do you—forgive me—you don't love anybody else? It isn't, of course, necessary that you should; but sometimes it's a factor."

Patricia glanced up at him, and even in her gravity she smiled.

"No, I don't love anybody else," she said. "And I know you well enough to know that when you talk like that you're being funny."

"I'm not being at all funny," protested Edgar. There was a sound of consent from Patricia. He went on, undeterred. "The reason you don't love anybody else is that you're in love with yourself."

"Oh." Patricia had not been so forewarned as to steel herself; and this shock depressed her. In a very low voice she said, trying to hide her wound: "I'm not much in love with myself at this moment."

The tone was so sad that unconsciously Edgar pressed her hands in pain. He would have done so much to save her from humiliation; and yet his way was clear and his attitude deliberately adopted.

"This is your wickedness, I suppose?" he asked patiently. Patricia nodded.

"At least, not wickedness—silliness. But perhaps you'd think it worse. I'd better tell you. Five minutes ago—a few days ago—I thought I was in love with a man."

"Harry Greenlees," interposed Edgar. Again Patricia nodded.

"I can't have been. I was attracted to him—I thought I was in love with him. I thought he was my ideal man. I was fond of him. But when it came to the point I felt I couldn't ever marry him. And as a matter of fact he didn't want to marry me. He only wanted to have a love affair with me. But I only found that out at the end. Well, it's a very little while ago, and I was in great anguish; and now I've forgotten him. It couldn't have been anything; anything but just a silly playing at love and beauty. It wasn't his fault. He did care for me in his own way; but it was a grown-up way; and I wasn't ready for grown-up love. I'm not ready now. I'm shallow. I don't think I could love anybody. Perhaps what you said is true."

Edgar had listened with attention; and he could tell that she was being painfully honest, and that she could not help being honest with him; and this made him feel proud and humble. It seemed to Edgar to be the first step in such a relation as theirs must be if it was to lead to happiness for them both.

"There doesn't seem to me to be much wickedness there," he suggested mildly.

"No, there isn't," said Patricia, with a faint colour coming to her cheeks. "The wickedness comes later. The wickedness comes up to last night." She could tell that he was now really serious, and she faltered. "It's ... it's Monty," she concluded. Edgar's head jerked.

"Monty!" he cried. "Monty! Oh, but my dear, how could you?" He was incredulous. "Monty!"

"He fascinated me. There was no question of my being in love with him. But he made me feel I was wonderful and beautiful...."

"But to be taken in by Monty!" exclaimed Edgar. "It's extraordinary. I believe women must somehow be less fastidious than men. You couldn't imagine me fascinated with Monty's counterpart?" His face expressed the horror he felt at his own image. Patricia shuddered.

"You'd never be fascinated by anybody," she said. "You'd always be quite calm. Besides, you don't want to be thought wonderful."

"I don't want Brummagem admiration."

"And you don't give it!" she flashed at him. "You don't give any admiration. You don't think I'm wonderful. You think I'm a silly child. Well, that makes ... you see, I couldn't love you...."

"By the way," said Edgar, coolly. "What makes you think you're so jolly wonderful? Is it something you do, or something you are?"

Patricia looked at him breathlessly. She was stimulated to temper.

"Nobody could ever love you!" she cried angrily. "You're too inhuman!"