nice shaggy old friend, rather like Nana in Peter Pan!
Felix laughed. 'Will he get a surprise? Je ne veux pas que tout finisse entre nous a cause d' un malentendu.
'If I succeed, you mean? I'm not sure. He may never know. Sometimes I think that would be the most beautiful. I should swallow him without his even noticing it.
'I think he'd realize something was up! Brandy, Mildred? or some Cointreau? Mon beau Felix, je ne veux pas mourir a force d' hre raisonnable.
'Thank you, yes, a little Cointreau. What a lovely meal, Felix. Ah, my dear, I wish I could screw your courage to the sticking point. I can inspire courage in quarters where it harms me. I can't inspire it in quarters where I want to see it. And I can't even use my own! I'm hamstrung.
'So am I, said Felix. 'Do you mind if I smoke? Je vous aime de tout mon etre, je desire vous epouser, etre avec vous pour toujours.
'Of course I don't mind if you smoke. Why do you go on asking me year after year? There's no need for you to be. You ought to approach Ann in a straightforward way.
'Let's not have this again, shall we? said Felix. He added, 'You know, I don't think Miranda likes me. It struck me again this time. Felix, Felix, souhaitez-vous vraiment me revoir?
'Stop making excuses, said Mildred. 'Miranda doesn't like anybody except herself and possibly her papa. She'd put up with you. Really, it's difficult enough without having Miranda the measure of all things into the bargain. No, you should do as I say. If you're waiting for Randall to clear off properly, you may wait forever.
'I wonder, said Felix, his attention caught. 'I wonder.
'I'll tell you one good reason why Randall will never go off, not properly that is.
'I've thought of that one.
'Precisely. No dough. He just can't clear off.
Felix was gloomily silent a moment. 'What's the answer? Mildred pondered. 'I suppose we could lend him some. Felix laughed. 'Do you know, I think he'd take it?
'Of course he'd take it. Anyway we could always make it anonymous. What do you think, Felix, seriously? I expect he'd need a great deal.
'Mildred, there are limits!
'Are there? All's fair in love and war, they say. And you a soldier.
'Quite, said Felix. 'All is not fair in war, thank God, and when it is I shall resign. Nor in love either.
'War is too terrible for fairness now, said Mildred, 'and love has always been. Ann is probably dying for you to take her by storm.
'I don't think so, said Felix shortly.
'Well, he won't go, said Mildred. 'He has no money. He won't go, he can't go. So there we are.
Chapter Eighteen
'THEY'RE devoted, you know, said Randall.
It was late at night. The curtains were drawn in Hugh's flat in Brompton Square. It had been a breathlessly hot day and now the purple airless dark trembled over London, opaque and very still.
Hugh and Randall had dined together, and dined well. They were returned and had been drinking brandy. It had been, rather to Hugh's surprise, an agreeable evening. When Randall had rung up to suggest such a meeting Hugh had feared that there would be some sort of unpleasantness. But in fact they had talked during dinner of indifferent matters and so revived the old comradeship between them that Hugh was ready to think it was just for that that Randall had come. Only now, very late, did the names of any of the women arise. Hugh looked at his watch.
Hugh had been doing nothing lately except think about Emma; and although many of the thoughts were painful the total activity was a joy and the degree of engrossment a miracle. He was still, of course, almost totally in the dark. He not only did not know what Emma was thinking, he did not even yet know exactly what he wanted, not exactly that is. But he knew relentlessly in which direction he must go, and in that direction he struggled on alone, under a banner on which were inscribed the words Liberty and Starvation.
For Hugh found himself somewhat in the position of one who has scarcely recovered from the first wild joy of release from prison when he discovers that though he is indeed free he is free only to starve. The extent to which he did now positively feel free struck him as amazing, since he had not thought himself, with Fanny, so especially tied. But the openness of the world now burst on him with dazzling power, and he felt faint with too much fresh air. Yet with this came other needs. As an elderly married man, surrounded by an accustomed and reasonably affectionate circle, he had been long settled in an emotional routine which was so much a routine that the emotions were indeed barely perceptible at all. But now, although the persons, all but one, who had cared for him were still in their places they no longer seemed to suffice. Hugh felt starved for human encounters and surprises, direct glances, wrestlings of soul with soul and wild unblunted affections.
His renewal of relations with Emma had been in many ways not what he expected. She was, he went on noticing, somehow older than he would have thought likely, and in some respects seemed older than himself. If he had imagined himself as it were waltzing away with Emma it was certainly not like that. Emma had changed, and there was something resigned and morose in her against which he blundered. Yet she was also the same Emma; and his sense of a certain compassion for her gave but a finer savour to his age-old acknowledgement of her superiority. What moved him most of all was the absolute directness of their communication which gave him just that salty taste of reality for which he craved.
But what did Emma want? He found her behaviour puzzling. She was glad to see him, more glad, he suspected, than she allowed officially to appear. Yet she kept him provocatively at Anns' length. He had been delighted by her wish to go to Grayhallock, though a little, and ineffectually, ashamed of taking her. Her conduct when there had been most unaccountable. She had banished him from her company and spent hours, before and after lunch, talking to Ann, to the children, to anyone but him. Then there had been the exasperating arrival of Mildred and the others, Mildred's raised eyebrows and Emma's honeyed wit. The Finch contingent had tactfully not stayed to lunch, but they had appropriated the later part of the morning, and Hugh had had to attend to Mildred's chat about art exhibitions in London and other nonsense, while watching from the comer of his eye Emma disappearing through the beech trees on the arm of Felix Meecham. The only part of the day which had been satisfactory was the journey, during which Hugh had held Emma's hand on the dual carriageways and they had talked about old times.
She had refused to dine with him and he had delivered her back to the flat just after seven. There Lindsay Rimmer had greeted them with ebullient cheerfulness and embraced Emma as if she had been away for a twelvemonth. The immodest displays of affection on both sides made Hugh uneasy; but he observed Lindsay and thought her very beautiful. She was certainly all of a glow at Emma's return and the two of them laughed together a great deal. Since then Hugh had been allowed to see Emma only twice, when he was invited to tea, and on each occasion Lindsay had been present nearly the whole time. Hugh felt excited, restless and cross, and told himself afterwards that soon he must' take a firm line'. But, taking a firm line was likely to be difficult since he realized how far he was from understanding what it was that confronted him.
Now that Randall had positively named the two women Hugh felt rather relieved than otherwise. It was suitably late, there would be no time for protracted conversation, and it would have been too unnatural for them to part without some such reference. Also given the friendliness of the earlier part of the evening, some mention of these awkward topics might constitute, for the topics themselves, a civilizing touch. Hugh hated to have unmentionable things about him.
So he now responded cheerfully enough to Randall, 'Lindsay and Emma? Yes, they are devoted, aren't they. Lindsay was so pleased to see Emma back that day I took her to Kent.
'Was she? said Randall. He laughed. He added, 'Emma's very attached, anyway. She depends dreadfully on Lindsay!
'I dare say, said Hugh unenthusiastically. And then, 'Lindsay is very beautiful, I must say!
'Yes I' said Randall, and sighed. 'Emma must have been very beautiful too when she was young. She has a
