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that Mildred had come back to him and his love for her was
as violent as it had ever been; he was very sorry, but he had
nothing to offer Norah any more. Then he thought of her
anguish, for he knew she loved him; it had flattered him
before, and he was immensely grateful; but now it was hor-
rible. She had not deserved that he should inflict pain upon
her. He asked himself how she would greet him now, and as
he walked up the stairs all possible forms of her behaviour
flashed across his mind. He knocked at the door. He felt that
he was pale, and wondered how to conceal his nervousness.
She was writing away industriously, but she sprang to her
feet as he entered.
‘I recognised your step,’ she cried. ‘Where have you been
hiding yourself, you naughty boy?’
She came towards him joyfully and put her arms round
his neck. She was delighted to see him. He kissed her, and
then, to give himself countenance, said he was dying for tea.
She bustled the fire to make the kettle boil.
‘I’ve been awfully busy,’ he said lamely.
She began to chatter in her bright way, telling him of a
new commission she had to provide a novelette for a firm
which had not hitherto employed her. She was to get fifteen
guineas for it.
‘It’s money from the clouds. I’ll tell you what we’ll do,
we’ll stand ourselves a little jaunt. Let’s go and spend a day
at Oxford, shall we? I’d love to see the colleges.’
He looked at her to see whether there was any shadow
of reproach in her eyes; but they were as frank and merry
as ever: she was overjoyed to see him. His heart sank. He