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He thought of Emil Miller, with his pasty, unhealthy
look, his shifty blue eyes, and the vulgar smartness of his
appearance; he always wore bright red knitted waistcoats.
Philip sighed. She got up and went to him. She put her arm
round his neck.
‘I shall never forget that you offered to marry me, Philip.’
He took her hand and looked up at her. She bent down
and kissed him.
‘Philip, if you want me still I’ll do anything you like now.
I know you’re a gentleman in every sense of the word.’
His heart stood still. Her words made him feel slightly
sick.
‘It’s awfully good of you, but I couldn’t.’
‘Don’t you care for me any more?’
‘Yes, I love you with all my heart.’
‘Then why shouldn’t we have a good time while we’ve got
the chance? You see, it can’t matter now”
He released himself from her.
‘You don’t understand. I’ve been sick with love for you
ever since I saw you, but now—that man. I’ve unfortunately
got a vivid imagination. The thought of it simply disgusts
me.’
‘You are funny,’ she said.
He took her hand again and smiled at her.
‘You mustn’t think I’m not grateful. I can never thank
you enough, but you see, it’s just stronger than I am.’
‘You are a good friend, Philip.’
They went on talking, and soon they had returned to
the familiar companionship of old days. It grew late. Philip

Of Human Bondage