Page 442 - of-human-bondage-

‘Oh, he’s in love,’ said he, with a little laugh.
Philip repeated every word of the conversation to him-
self as he limped home. She was quite friendly with him
now. When opportunity arose he would offer to make a
more finished sketch of her, he was sure she would like that;
her face was interesting, the profile was lovely, and there
was something curiously fascinating about the chlorotic co-
lour. He tried to think what it was like; at first he thought of
pea soup; but, driving away that idea angrily, he thought of
the petals of a yellow rosebud when you tore it to pieces be-
fore it had burst. He had no ill-feeling towards her now.
‘She’s not a bad sort,’ he murmured.
It was silly of him to take offence at what she had said;
it was doubtless his own fault; she had not meant to make
herself disagreeable: he ought to be accustomed by now to
making at first sight a bad impression on people. He was
flattered at the success of his drawing; she looked upon him
with more interest now that she was aware of this small tal-
ent. He was restless next day. He thought of going to lunch
at the tea-shop, but he was certain there would be many
people there then, and Mildred would not be able to talk to
him. He had managed before this to get out of having tea
with Dunsford, and, punctually at half past four (he had
looked at his watch a dozen times), he went into the shop.
Mildred had her back turned to him. She was sitting
down, talking to the German whom Philip had seen there
every day till a fortnight ago and since then had not seen
at all. She was laughing at what he said. Philip thought she
had a common laugh, and it made him shudder. He called

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