He knew that he would not be able to come, since he was going to help Mildred with her moving, but he had not the courage to say so.  He made up his mind that he would send a wire.  Mildred saw the rooms in the morning, was satisfied with them, and after luncheon Philip went up with her to Highbury.  She had a trunk for her clothes and another for the various odds and ends, cushions, lampshades, photograph frames, with which she had tried to give the apartments a home-like air; she had two or three large cardboard boxes besides, but in all there was no more than could be put on the roof of a four-wheeler.  As they drove through Victoria Street Philip sat well back in the cab in case Norah should happen to be passing.  He had not had an opportunity to telegraph and could not do so from the post office in the Vauxhall Bridge Road, since she would wonder what he was doing in that neighbourhood; and if he was there he could have no excuse for not going into the neighbouring square where she lived.  He made up his mind that he had better go in and see her for half an hour; but the necessity irritated him:  he was angry with Norah, because she forced him to vulgar and degrading shifts.  But he was happy to be with Mildred.  It amused him to help her with the unpacking; and he experienced a charming sense of possession in installing her in these lodgings which he had found and was paying for.  He would not let her exert herself.  It was a pleasure to do things for her, and she had no desire to do what somebody else seemed desirous to do for her.  He unpacked her clothes and put them away.  She was not proposing to go out again, so he got her slippers and took off her boots.  It delighted him to perform menial offices.

“You do spoil me,” she said, running her fingers affectionately through his hair, while he was on his knees unbuttoning her boots.

He took her hands and kissed them.

“It is nipping to have you here.”

He arranged the cushions and the photograph frames.  She had several jars of green earthenware.

“I’ll get you some flowers for them,” he said.

He looked round at his work proudly.

“As I’m not going out any more I think I’ll get into a tea-gown,” she said.  “Undo me behind, will you?”

She turned round as unconcernedly as though he were a woman.  His sex meant nothing to her.  But his heart was filled with gratitude for the intimacy her request showed.  He undid the hooks and eyes with clumsy fingers.

“That first day I came into the shop I never thought I’d be doing this for you now,” he said, with a laugh which he forced.

“Somebody must do it,” she answered.

She went into the bed-room and slipped into a pale blue tea-gown decorated with a great deal of cheap lace.  Then Philip settled her on a sofa and made tea for her.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay and have it with you,” he said regretfully.  “I’ve got a beastly appointment.  But I shall be back in half an hour.”