I should think you might start by putting your
clothes on, hesaid coldly.
Their blood seemed to grow suddenly cooler in
theopen air.
He so wanted to be sure that she was
his!
She imagined that she had offended
himmortally.
On the doorsteps the milk bottleswaited ungathered
like little white sentinels.
Thats not the way to serve red wine, he said. It
was torment to Gordonto let her pay for his food.
As the waiter displayed the bottle heput out a
hand, felt it, and frowned. But he could do nothing of the kind; the scene hadleft
him lumpish and awkward.
Its no use, there were no pubs the way we came. On
the doorsteps the milk bottleswaited ungathered like little white sentinels. It
seemed to flutter violently, as thoughshe were taking some decision.
Well go down to Brighton for the week-end, or
something. It seemed so right, so natural only a minute ago; nowit seemed merely
squalid and ugly.
They sat cheek to cheek, looking down the hill.
They began to talk more easily and in louder voices.
It was notbecause, at this moment, she really
wanted to be made love to. He put an arm beneath her and laid his bodyto hers. The
dew, thestillness, the satiny stems of the birches, the softness of theturf under
your feet!
Each searched desperately forsomething to say and
could think of nothing.
It was no surprise that when the wine was opened
ittasted like mud.
He thought hehad never hated anyone so much as he
hated this waiter.