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She found no one to admire, and whenever she spoke of
anyone it was to say something disagreeable. It made Philip
uneasy. He supposed that next day she would tell the girls
in the shop that he had taken her out and that he had bored
her to death. He disliked her, and yet, he knew not why, he
wanted to be with her. On the way home he asked:
‘I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself?’
‘Rather.’
‘Will you come out with me again one evening?’
‘I don’t mind.’
He could never get beyond such expressions as that. Her
indifference maddened him.
‘That sounds as if you didn’t much care if you came or
not.’
‘Oh, if you don’t take me out some other fellow will. I need
never want for men who’ll take me to the theatre.’
Philip was silent. They came to the station, and he went
to the booking-office.
‘I’ve got my season,’ she said.
‘I thought I’d take you home as it’s rather late, if you don’t
mind.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind if it gives you any pleasure.’
He took a single first for her and a return for himself.
‘Well, you’re not mean, I will say that for you,’ she said,
when he opened the carriage-door.
Philip did not know whether he was pleased or sorry
when other people entered and it was impossible to speak.
They got out at Herne Hill, and he accompanied her to the
corner of the road in which she lived.

Of Human Bondage