“Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. “Ugh!” she said. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. But, rather than be the cause of any further misunderstanding between you and my benefactor, I will leave London and its neighbourhood for ever. There was nothing left now of the selfassured, prosperous man of affairs. Later on—well then the time may come.
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