him, protectively, and to his delight she wound her arm around his waist and gave him a squeeze.
There were numerous shadowy groves and bowers off the main footpath, and Hugh could dimly perceive couples on the wooden seats, although he could not be sure whether they were embracing or just sitting together. He was surprised when the couple walking in front of them stopped and kissed passionately in the middle of the path. He led Maisie around them, feeling awkward. But after a while he got over his embarrassment and began to feel excited. A few minutes later they passed another embracing couple. Hugh caught Maisie's eye, and she smiled at him in a way that he felt sure was meant to be encouraging. But somehow he could not summon up the nerve to just go ahead and kiss her.
The gardens were becoming more rowdy. They had to detour around a scuffle involving six or seven young men, all shouting drunkenly, punching and knocking one another down. Hugh began to notice a number of unaccompanied women, and wondered if they were prostitutes. The atmosphere was turning threatening, and he felt the need to protect Maisie.
Then a group of thirty or forty young men came charging along, tipping people's hats off, pushing women aside and throwing men to the ground. There was no escaping them: they spread out across the lawns on either side of the path. Hugh acted quickly. He stood in front of Maisie with his back to the onslaught, then took off his hat and put both arms around her, holding her tight. The mob swept by. A heavy shoulder hit Hugh in the back, and he staggered, still holding Maisie; but he managed to remain upright. On one side of him a girl was knocked over, and on the other a man was punched in the face. Then the hooligans were gone.
Hugh relaxed his grip and looked down at Maisie. She looked back at him expectantly. Hesitantly, he leaned down and kissed her lips. They were deliciously soft and mobile. He closed his eyes. He had waited years for this: it was his first kiss. And it was as delightful as he had dreamed. He breathed in the scent of her. Her lips moved delicately against his. He wanted never to stop.
She broke the kiss. She looked hard at him, then hugged him tight, pulling his body against hers. 'You could spoil all my plans,' she said quietly.
He was not sure what she meant.
He looked to one side. There was a bower with an empty seat. Screwing up his courage, he said: 'Shall we sit down?'
'All right.'
They made their way into the darkness and sat on the wooden seat. Hugh kissed her again.
This time he felt a little less tentative. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, and with his other hand he tilted her chin; and he kissed her more passionately than before, pressing his lips to hers hard. She responded enthusiastically, arching her back so that he could feel her bosom crushed against his chest. It surprised him that she should be so keen, though he knew of no reason why girls should not like kissing as much as men did. Her eagerness made it doubly exciting.
He stroked her cheek and her neck, and his hand fell to her shoulder. He wanted to touch her breasts, but he was afraid she would be offended, so he hesitated. She put her lips to his ear, and in a whisper that was also a kiss, she said: 'You can touch them.'
It startled him that she had been able to read his mind, but the invitation excited him almost beyond endurance--not just because she was willing, but that she should actually speak of it. You can touch them. His fingertips traced a line from her shoulder, across her collarbone, down to her bosom, and he touched the swell of her breast above the neckline of her gown. Her skin was soft and warm. He was not sure what he should do next. Should he try to put his hand inside?
Maisie answered his unspoken question by taking his hand and pressing it to her dress below the neckline. 'Squeeze them, but gently,' she whispered.
He did so. They were not like muscles or kneecaps, he found, but more yielding, except for the hard nipples. His hand went from one to the other, stroking and squeezing alternately. Maisie's breath was hot against his neck. He felt as if he could do this all night, but he paused to kiss her lips again. This time she kissed him briefly then pulled away, kissed then pulled away, again and again, and that was even more thrilling. There were lots of ways to kiss, he realized.
Suddenly she froze. 'Listen,' she said.
Hugh had been vaguely aware that the gardens were getting very noisy, and now he was hearing shouting and crashing. Looking toward the footpath he saw that everyone was running in different directions. 'There must be a fight,' he said.
Then he heard a police whistle.
'Damn,' he said. 'Now there'll be trouble.'
'We'd better leave,' Maisie said.
'Let's find our way to the King's Road entrance and see if we can pick up a hansom cab.'
'All right.'
He hesitated, reluctant to leave. 'One more kiss.'
'Yes.'
He kissed her and she hugged him hard.
'Hugh,' she said, 'I'm glad I met you.'
He thought it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.
They regained the footpath and headed north, hurrying. A moment later two young men came hurtling along, one chasing the other; and the first crashed into Hugh, sending him flying. When he scrambled to his feet they had gone.
Maisie was concerned. 'Are you all right?'
He brushed himself off and picked up his hat. 'No damage,' he said. 'But I don't want it to happen to you. Let's cut across the lawns--it might be safer.'
As they stepped off the path, the gaslights went out.
They pressed forward in the dark. Now there was a continuous clamor of men shouting and women screaming, punctuated by police whistles. It suddenly occurred to Hugh that he might be arrested. Then everyone would find out what he had been up to. Augusta would say he was too dissolute to be given a responsible post at the bank. He groaned. Then he recalled how it had felt to touch Maisie's breasts, and he decided he did not care what Augusta said.
They kept away from paths and open spaces, and picked their way through trees and shrubbery. The ground rose slightly from the riverbank, so Hugh knew they were headed the right way as long as they were going uphill.
In the distance he saw lanterns twinkling, and steered toward the lights. They began to meet up with other couples going the same way. Hugh hoped there would be less chance of trouble with the police if they were in a group of obviously respectable and sober people.
As they approached the gate a troop of thirty or forty policemen entered. Fighting to get into the park against the flow of the crowd, the police started indiscriminately clubbing men and women. The crowd turned and began to run in the opposite direction.
Hugh thought fast. 'Let me carry you,' he said to Maisie.
She looked puzzled but said: 'All right.'
He stooped and picked her up, with one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders. 'Pretend you've fainted,' he said, and she closed her eyes and went limp. He walked forward, against the press of the crowd, shouting: 'Make way, there! Make way!' in his most authoritative voice. Seeing an apparently sick woman, even the fleeing people tried to get out of the way. He came up against the advancing policemen, who were as panicky as the public. 'Stand aside, constable! Let the lady through!' he shouted at one of them. The man looked hostile and for a moment he thought his bluff would be called. Then a sergeant shouted: 'Let
