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of sweat stood in a line on her upper lip. He called to mind
Fraulein Cacilie and Herr Sung. He had never thought of
Cacilie in an amorous way, she was exceedingly plain; but
now, looking back, the affair seemed very romantic. He had
a chance of romance too. Miss Wilkinson was practically
French, and that added zest to a possible adventure. When
he thought of it at night in bed, or when he sat by himself in
the garden reading a book, he was thrilled by it; but when
he saw Miss Wilkinson it seemed less picturesque.
At all events, after what she had told him, she would not
be surprised if he made love to her. He had a feeling that
she must think it odd of him to make no sign: perhaps it
was only his fancy, but once or twice in the last day or two
he had imagined that there was a suspicion of contempt in
her eyes.
‘A penny for your thoughts,’ said Miss Wilkinson, look-
ing at him with a smile.
‘I’m not going to tell you,’ he answered.
He was thinking that he ought to kiss her there and then.
He wondered if she expected him to do it; but after all he
didn’t see how he could without any preliminary business
at all. She would just think him mad, or she might slap his
face; and perhaps she would complain to his uncle. He won-
dered how Herr Sung had started with Fraulein Cacilie. It
would be beastly if she told his uncle: he knew what his un-
cle was, he would tell the doctor and Josiah Graves; and he
would look a perfect fool. Aunt Louisa kept on saying that
Miss Wilkinson was thirty-seven if she was a day; he shud-
dered at the thought of the ridicule he would be exposed to;

Of Human Bondage