Page 366 - of-human-bondage-

to houses in a cul-de-sac, with the drawing-room in Utre-
cht velvet, and the mercenary graces of painted women. He
shuddered. He threw himself on the grass, stretching his
limbs like a young animal freshly awaked from sleep; and
the rippling water, the poplars gently tremulous in the faint
breeze, the blue sky, were almost more than he could bear.
He was in love with love. In his fancy he felt the kiss of warm
lips on his, and around his neck the touch of soft hands. He
imagined himself in the arms of Ruth Chalice, he thought of
her dark eyes and the wonderful texture of her skin; he was
mad to have let such a wonderful adventure slip through his
fingers. And if Lawson had done it why should not he? But
this was only when he did not see her, when he lay awake
at night or dreamed idly by the side of the canal; when he
saw her he felt suddenly quite different; he had no desire to
take her in his arms, and he could not imagine himself kiss-
ing her. It was very curious. Away from her he thought her
beautiful, remembering only her magnificent eyes and the
creamy pallor of her face; but when he was with her he saw
only that she was flat-chested and that her teeth were slightly
decayed; he could not forget the corns on her toes. He could
not understand himself. Would he always love only in ab-
sence and be prevented from enjoying anything when he
had the chance by that deformity of vision which seemed to
exaggerate the revolting?
He was not sorry when a change in the weather, announc-
ing the definite end of the long summer, drove them all back
to Paris.