He had talked to her a hundred times of the Quarter.  They would wander through its pleasant old streets, and they would sit idly in the charming gardens of the Luxembourg.  If the weather was fine perhaps, when they had had enough of Paris, they might go to Fontainebleau.  The trees would be just bursting into leaf.  The green of the forest in spring was more beautiful than anything he knew; it was like a song, and it was like the happy pain of love.  Mildred listened quietly.  He turned to her and tried to look deep into her eyes.

“You do want to come, don’t you?” he said.

“Of course I do,” she smiled.

“You don’t know how I’m looking forward to it.  I don’t know how I shall get through the next days.  I’m so afraid something will happen to prevent it.  It maddens me sometimes that I can’t tell you how much I love you.  And at last, at last...”

He broke off.  They reached the station, but they had dawdled on the way, and Philip had barely time to say good-night.  He kissed her quickly and ran towards the wicket as fast as he could.  She stood where he left her.  He was strangely grotesque when he ran.

LXXIV

The following Saturday Mildred returned, and that evening Philip kept her to himself.  He took seats for the play, and they drank champagne at dinner.  It was her first gaiety in London for so long that she enjoyed everything ingenuously.  She cuddled up to Philip when they drove from the theatre to the room he had taken for her in Pimlico.

“I really believe you’re quite glad to see me,” he said.

She did not answer, but gently pressed his hand.  Demonstrations of affection were so rare with her that Philip was enchanted.

“I’ve asked Griffiths to dine with us tomorrow,” he told her.

“Oh, I’m glad you’ve done that.  I wanted to meet him.”

There was no place of entertainment to take her to on Sunday night, and Philip was afraid she would be bored if she were alone with him all day.  Griffiths was amusing; he would help them to get through the evening; and Philip was so fond of them both that he wanted them to know and to like one another.  He left Mildred with the words: 

“Only six days more.”

They had arranged to dine in the gallery at Romano’s on Sunday, because the dinner was excellent and looked as though it cost a good deal more than it did.  Philip and Mildred arrived first and had to wait some time for Griffiths.

“He’s an unpunctual devil,” said Philip.  “He’s probably making love to one of his numerous flames.”

But presently he appeared.  He was a handsome creature, tall and thin; his head was placed well on the body, it gave him a conquering air which was attractive; and his curly hair, his bold, friendly blue eyes, his red mouth, were charming.  Philip saw Mildred look at him with appreciation, and he felt a curious satisfaction.  Griffiths greeted them with a smile.