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she and Nick had dreamed 。。。 only she must create it alone。
Well； that was probably the law of things。 All human happiness
was thus conditioned and circumscribed； and hers； no doubt； must
always be of the lonely kind； since material things did not
suffice for it； even though it depended on them as Grace
Fulmer's； for instance； never had。 Yet even Grace Fulmer had
succumbed to Ursula's offer； and had arrived at Ruan the day
before Susy left； instead of going to Spain with her husband and
Violet Melrose。 But then Grace was making the sacrifice for her
children； and somehow one had the feeling that in giving up her
liberty she was not surrendering a tittle of herself。 All the
difference was there 。。。。
〃How I do bore you！〃 Susy heard Strefford exclaim。 She became
aware that she had not been listening： stray echoes of names of
places and peopleViolet Melrose； Ursula； Prince Altineri；
others of their group and persuasionhad vainly knocked at her
barricaded brain； what had he been telling her about them？ She
turned to him and their eyes met； his were full of a melancholy
irony。
〃Susy； old girl； what's wrong？〃
She pulled herself together。 〃I was thinking； Streff； just
nowwhen I said I hated the very sound of pearls and
chinchillahow impossible it was that you should believe me； in
fact； what a blunder I'd made in saying it。〃
He smiled。 〃Because it was what so many other women might be
likely to say so awfully unoriginal； in fact？〃
She laughed for sheer joy at his insight。 〃It's going to be
easier than I imagined；〃 she thought。 Aloud she rejoined： 〃Oh；
Streffhow you're always going to find me out！ Where on earth
shall I ever hide from you？〃
〃Where？〃 He echoed her laugh； laying his hand lightly on hers。
〃In my heart； I'm afraid。〃
In spite of the laugh his accent shook her： something about it
took all the mockery from his retort； checked on her lips the：
〃What？ A valentine！〃 and made her suddenly feel that； if he
were afraid； so was she。 Yet she was touched also； and wondered
half exultingly if any other woman had ever caught that
particular deep inflexion of his shrill voice。 She had never
liked him as much as at that moment； and she said to herself；
with an odd sense of detachment； as if she had been rather
breathlessly observing the vacillations of someone whom she
longed to persuade but dared not： 〃NowNOW； if he speaks； I
shall say yes！〃
He did not speak； but abruptly； and as startlingly to her as if
she had just dropped from a sphere whose inhabitants had other
methods of expressing their sympathy； he slipped his arm around
her and bent his keen ugly melting face to hers 。。。。
It was the lightest touchin an instant she was free again。
But something within her gasped and resisted long after his arm
and his lips were gone； and he was proceeding； with a too…
studied ease； to light a cigarette and sweeten his coffee。
He had kissed her 。。。。 Well； naturally： why not？ It was not
the first time she had been kissed。 It was true that one didn't
habitually associate Streff with such demonstrations； but she
had not that excuse for surprise； for even in Venice she had
begun to notice that he looked at her differently； and avoided
her hand when he used to seek it。
Noshe ought not to have been surprised； nor ought a kiss to
have been so disturbing。 Such incidents had punctuated the
career of Susy Branch： there had been； in particular； in far…
off discarded times； Fred Gillow's large but artless embraces。
Wellnothing of that kind had seemed of any more account than
the click of a leaf in a woodland walk。 It had all been merely
epidermal； ephemeral； part of the trivial accepted 〃business〃 of
the social comedy。 But this kiss of Strefford's was what Nick's
had been； under the New Hampshire pines； on the day that had
decided their fate。 It was a kiss with a future in it： like a
ring slipped upon her soul。 And now； in the dreadful pause that
followedwhile Strefford fidgeted with his cigarette…case and
rattled the spoon in his cup； Susy remembered what she had seen
through the circle of Nick's kiss： that blue illimitable
distance which was at once the landscape at their feet and the
future in their souls 。。。。
Perhaps that was what Strefford's sharply narrowed eyes were
seeing now； that same illimitable distance that she had lost
foreverperhaps he was saying to himself； as she had said to
herself when her lips left Nick's： 〃Each time we kiss we shall
see it all again 。。。。〃 Whereas all she herself had felt was the
gasping recoil from Strefford's touch； and an intenser vision of
the sordid room in which he and she sat； and of their two
selves； more distant from each other than if their embrace had
been a sudden thrusting apart 。。。。
The moment prolonged itself； and they sat numb。 How long had it
lasted？ How long ago was it that she had thought： 〃It's going
to be easier than I imagined〃？ Suddenly she felt Strefford's
queer smile upon her； and saw in his eyes a look； not of
reproach or disappointment； but of deep and anxious
comprehension。 Instead of being angry or hurt； he had seen； he
had understood； he was sorry for her！
Impulsively she slipped her hand into his； and they sat silent
for another moment。 Then he stood up and took her cloak from
the divan。 〃Shall we go now！ I've got cards for the private
view of the Reynolds exhibition at the Petit Palais。 There are
some portraits from Altringham。 It might amuse you。〃
In the taxi she had time； through their light rattle of talk； to
readjust herself and drop back into her usual feeling of
friendly ease with him。 He had been extraordinarily
considerate； for anyone who always so undisguisedly sought his
own satisfaction above all things； and if his considerateness
were just an indirect way of seeking that satisfaction now；
well； that proved how much he cared for her； how necessary to
his happiness she had become。 The sense of power was undeniably
pleasant； pleasanter still was the feeling that someone really
needed her； that the happiness of the man at her side depended
on her yes or no。 She abandoned herself to the feeling；
forgetting the abysmal interval of his caress； or at least
saying to herself that in time she would forget it； that really
there was nothing to make a fuss about in being kissed by anyone
she liked as much as Streff 。。。。
She had guessed at once why he was taking her to see the
Reynoldses。 Fashionable and artistic Paris had recently
discovered English eighteenth century art。 The principal
collections of England had yielded up their best examples of the
great portrait painter's work； and the private view at the Petit
Palais was to be the social event of the afternoon。 Everybody
Strefford's everybody and Susy'swas sure to be there； and
these； as she knew； were the occasions that revived Strefford's
intermittent interest in art。 He really lik