with it.  He wrote to her of the future, the happiness that lay before him, and the gratitude which he owed her.  He asked himself (he had often asked himself before but had never put it into words) what it was in her that filled him with such extravagant delight; he did not know; he knew only that when she was with him he was happy, and when she was away from him the world was on a sudden cold and gray; he knew only that when he thought of her his heart seemed to grow big in his body so that it was difficult to breathe (as if it pressed against his lungs) and it throbbed, so that the delight of her presence was almost pain; his knees shook, and he felt strangely weak as though, not having eaten, he were tremulous from want of food.  He looked forward eagerly to her answers.  He did not expect her to write often, for he knew that letter-writing came difficultly to her; and he was quite content with the clumsy little note that arrived in reply to four of his.  She spoke of the boarding-house in which she had taken a room, of the weather and the baby, told him she had been for a walk on the front with a lady-friend whom she had met in the boarding-house and who had taken such a fancy to baby, she was going to the theatre on Saturday night, and Brighton was filling up.  It touched Philip because it was so matter-of-fact.  The crabbed style, the formality of the matter, gave him a queer desire to laugh and to take her in his arms and kiss her.

He went into the examination with happy confidence.  There was nothing in either of the papers that gave him trouble.  He knew that he had done well, and though the second part of the examination was viva voce and he was more nervous, he managed to answer the questions adequately.  He sent a triumphant telegram to Mildred when the result was announced.

When he got back to his rooms Philip found a letter from her, saying that she thought it would be better for her to stay another week in Brighton.  She had found a woman who would be glad to take the baby for seven shillings a week, but she wanted to make inquiries about her, and she was herself benefiting so much by the sea-air that she was sure a few days more would do her no end of good.  She hated asking Philip for money, but would he send some by return, as she had had to buy herself a new hat, she couldn’t go about with her lady-friend always in the same hat, and her lady-friend was so dressy.  Philip had a moment of bitter disappointment.  It took away all his pleasure at getting through his examination.

“If she loved me one quarter as much as I love her she couldn’t bear to stay away a day longer than necessary.”