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She had forgotten to shut the door when she came in.
‘C’etait une fatalite.’
‘And what happened then?’ asked Philip.
‘That is the end of the story,’ she replied, with a ripple of
laughter.
Philip was silent for a moment. His heart beat quickly,
and strange emotions seemed to be hustling one another in
his heart. He saw the dark staircase and the chance meet-
ings, and he admired the boldness of the letters—oh, he
would never have dared to do that—and then the silent, al-
most mysterious entrance. It seemed to him the very soul
of romance.
‘What was he like?’
‘Oh, he was handsome. Charmant garcon.’
‘Do you know him still?’
Philip felt a slight feeling of irritation as he asked this.
‘He treated me abominably. Men are always the same.
You’re heartless, all of you.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Philip, not without embar-
rassment.
‘Let us go home,’ said Miss Wilkinson.

1 Of Human Bondage