Their arms slackened; they came apart, drawing their hands slowly, reluctantly, down from each other’s shoulders.

They sat down, she on her couch and he in Colin’s chair.

“Is Colin coming?” she said.

“No, he isn’t.”

“Well—­the lamb’s better.”

“I never told him about the lamb.  I didn’t want him to come.”

“Is he all right?”

“I left him playing.”

The darkness had gone from her brain and the tumult from her senses.  She felt nothing but her heart straining towards him in an immense tenderness that was half pity.

“Are you thinking about Colin?” he said.

“No.  I’m not thinking about anything but you... Now you know why I was happy looking after Colin.  Why I was happy working on the land.  Because he was your brother.  Because it was your land.  Because there wasn’t anything else I could do for you.”

“And I’ve done nothing for you.  I’ve only hurt you horribly.  I’ve brought you nothing but trouble and danger.”

“I don’t care.”

“No, but think.  Anne darling, this is going to be a very risky business.  Are you sure you can go through with it?  Are you sure you’re not afraid?”

“I’ve never been much afraid of anything.”

“I ought to be afraid for you.”

“Don’t.  Don’t be afraid.  The more dangerous it is the better I shall like it.”

“I don’t know.  It was bad enough in all conscience for you and Colin.  It’ll be worse for us if we’re found out.  Of course we shan’t be found out, but there’s always a risk.  And it would be worse for you than for me, Anne.”

“I don’t care.  I want it to be.  Besides, it won’t.  It’ll be far worse for you because of Maisie.  That’s the only thing that makes it wrong.”

“Don’t think about that, darling.”

“I don’t.  If it’s wrong, it’s wrong.  I don’t care how wrong it is if it makes you happy.  And if God’s going to punish either of us I hope it’ll be me.”

“God?  The God doesn’t exist who could punish you.”

“I don’t care if he does punish me so long as you’re let off.”

She came over to him and slid to the floor and crouched beside him and laid her head against his knees.  She clasped his knees tight with her arms.

“I don’t want you to be hurt,” she said.  “I can’t bear you to be hurt.  But what can I do?”

“Stay like that.  Close.  Don’t go.”

She stayed, pressing her face down tighter, rubbing her cheek against his rough tweed.  He put his arm round her shoulder, holding her there; his fingers stroked, stroked the back of her neck, pushed up through the fine roots of her hair, giving her the caress she loved.  Her nerves thrilled with a sudden secret bliss.

“Jerrold, it’s heaven when you touch me.”

“I know.  It’s hell for me when I don’t.”

“I didn’t know.  I didn’t know.  If only I’d known.”