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Philip threw away the cigarette he had just lighted, and
flung his arms round her. She tried to push him away.
‘You promised you’d be good, Philip.’
‘You didn’t think I was going to keep a promise like
that?’
‘Not so near the house, Philip,’ she said. ‘Supposing some-
one should come out suddenly?’
He led her to the kitchen garden where no one was like-
ly to come, and this time Miss Wilkinson did not think of
earwigs. He kissed her passionately. It was one of the things
that puzzled him that he did not like her at all in the morn-
ing, and only moderately in the afternoon, but at night the
touch of her hand thrilled him. He said things that he would
never have thought himself capable of saying; he could cer-
tainly never have said them in the broad light of day; and he
listened to himself with wonder and satisfaction.
‘How beautifully you make love,’ she said.
That was what he thought himself.
‘Oh, if I could only say all the things that burn my heart!’
he murmured passionately.
It was splendid. It was the most thrilling game he had
ever played; and the wonderful thing was that he felt almost
all he said. It was only that he exaggerated a little. He was
tremendously interested and excited in the effect he could
see it had on her. It was obviously with an effort that at last
she suggested going in.
‘Oh, don’t go yet,’ he cried.
‘I must,’ she muttered. ‘I’m frightened.’
He had a sudden intuition what was the right thing to

Of Human Bondage