But it was not till the third night that they entered into the full possession of their delight.  Every night after seemed more exquisite than the last, like sunset skies, as beautiful and as unrememberable.  She could recall only the moment when from the threshold he looked back, nodded a good-night, and then told her he would call her when it was time to get up.  Then in a happy weariness she closed her eyes; and when they opened she closed them quickly, and curled herself into dreams and thoughts of Owen.

They were going to the races, and he would come and tell her when it was time to get up.  She hoped this would not be till she had dreamed to the end of her dream.  But her eyes opened, and she saw him in his dressing gown with blue facings standing in the middle of the room watching her.  His little smile was in his eyes; they seemed to say, So there you are; I haven’t lost you.

“You’re the loveliest thing,” he said, “in God’s earth.”

“Dearest Owen, I’m very fond of you;” and there was a plaintive and amorous cry in her voice which found echo in the movement with which she threw herself into her lover’s arms, and laid her head upon his shoulder.

“I’ve never seen such a hand, it is like a spray of fern; and those eyes—­look at me, Eve.”

“Why do you call me Eve?  No one ever called me Eve before.”

“Sometimes they are as green as sea water, at other times they are grey or nearly grey, most often they are hazel green.  And your feet are like hands, and your ankle—­see, I can span it between forefinger and thumb....  Your hair is faint, like flowers.  Your throat is too thick, you have the real singer’s throat; thousands of pounds lie hidden in that whiteness, which is mine—­the whiteness, not the gold.”

“How you know how to praise, Owen!”

“I love that sweet indecision of chin.”

“A retreating chin means want of character.”

“You have not what I call a retreating chin, the line merely deflects.  Nothing more unlovable than a firm chin.  It means a hard, unimaginative nature.  Eve, you’re adorable.  Where should I find a sweetheart equal to you?”

“That isn’t the way I want you to love me.”

“Isn’t it?  Are you sure of that?”

“I don’t know—­perhaps not.  But why do you make me say these things?”

She held his face between her hands, and moved aside his moustache with her lips....  Suddenly freeing herself from his embraces, she said, “I don’t want to kiss you any more.  Let’s talk.”

“Dearest, do you know what time is it?  You must get up and dress yourself.  It is past nine o’clock.  We are going to the races.  I’ll send you the chambermaid.  You promise me to get up?”