He had talked to her a hundred times of the Quarter.
They would wander through its pleasant old streets,
and they would sit idly in the charming gardens of
the Luxembourg. If the weather was fine perhaps,
when they had had enough of Paris, they might go to
Fontainebleau. The trees would be just bursting
into leaf. The green of the forest in spring was
more beautiful than anything he knew; it was like
a song, and it was like the happy pain of love.
Mildred listened quietly. He turned to her and
tried to look deep into her eyes.
“You do want to come, don’t you?”
he said.
“Of course I do,” she smiled.
“You don’t know how I’m looking
forward to it. I don’t know how I shall
get through the next days. I’m so afraid
something will happen to prevent it. It maddens
me sometimes that I can’t tell you how much I
love you. And at last, at last...”
He broke off. They reached the station, but they
had dawdled on the way, and Philip had barely time
to say good-night. He kissed her quickly and
ran towards the wicket as fast as he could. She
stood where he left her. He was strangely grotesque
when he ran.
The following Saturday Mildred returned, and that
evening Philip kept her to himself. He took seats
for the play, and they drank champagne at dinner.
It was her first gaiety in London for so long that
she enjoyed everything ingenuously. She cuddled
up to Philip when they drove from the theatre to the
room he had taken for her in Pimlico.
“I really believe you’re quite glad to
see me,” he said.
She did not answer, but gently pressed his hand.
Demonstrations of affection were so rare with her
that Philip was enchanted.
“I’ve asked Griffiths to dine with us
tomorrow,” he told her.
“Oh, I’m glad you’ve done that.
I wanted to meet him.”
There was no place of entertainment to take her to
on Sunday night, and Philip was afraid she would be
bored if she were alone with him all day. Griffiths
was amusing; he would help them to get through the
evening; and Philip was so fond of them both that
he wanted them to know and to like one another.
He left Mildred with the words:
“Only six days more.”
They had arranged to dine in the gallery at Romano’s
on Sunday, because the dinner was excellent and looked
as though it cost a good deal more than it did.
Philip and Mildred arrived first and had to wait some
time for Griffiths.
“He’s an unpunctual devil,” said
Philip. “He’s probably making love
to one of his numerous flames.”
But presently he appeared. He was a handsome
creature, tall and thin; his head was placed well
on the body, it gave him a conquering air which was
attractive; and his curly hair, his bold, friendly
blue eyes, his red mouth, were charming. Philip
saw Mildred look at him with appreciation, and he
felt a curious satisfaction. Griffiths greeted
them with a smile.
