stood before him very upright, with a smile on her face that
looked faintly ironical, as though she were wondering why he was so slow to
act. The bluebells had cascaded on to the ground. They seemed to have
fallen of their own accord. He took her hand.
'Would you believe,' he said, 'that till this moment I didn't know
what colour your eyes were?' They were brown, he noted, a rather light
shade of brown, with dark lashes. 'Now that you've seen what I'm really
like, can you still bear to look at me?'
'Yes, easily.'
'I'm thirty-nine years old. I've got a wife that I can't get rid of.
I've got varicose veins. I've got five false teeth.'
'I couldn't care less,' said the girl.
The next moment, it was hard to say by whose act, she was in his his
arms. At the beginning he had no feeling except sheer incredulity. The
youthful body was strained against his own, the mass of dark hair was
against his face, and yes! actually she had turned her face up and he was
kissing the wide red mouth. She had clasped her arms about his neck, she
was calling him darling, precious one, loved one. He had pulled her down on
to the ground, she was utterly unresisting, he could do what he liked with
her. But the truth was that he had no physical sensation, except that of
mere contact. All he felt was incredulity and p