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It was Norah. He felt himself blush to the roots of his
hair. She spoke gaily. There was no trace of resentment in
her voice and nothing to indicate that there was a rupture
between them. He felt himself cornered. He was sick with
fear, but he did his best to smile.
‘Yes, do,’ he said.
He opened the door, and she preceded him into his
sitting-room. He was nervous and, to give himself coun-
tenance, offered her a cigarette and lit one for himself. She
looked at him brightly.
‘Why did you write me such a horrid letter, you naughty
boy? If I’d taken it seriously it would have made me per-
fectly wretched.’
‘It was meant seriously,’ he answered gravely.
‘Don’t be so silly. I lost my temper the other day, and I
wrote and apologised. You weren’t satisfied, so I’ve come
here to apologise again. After all, you’re your own master
and I have no claims upon you. I don’t want you to do any-
thing you don’t want to.’
She got up from the chair in which she was sitting and
went towards him impulsively, with outstretched hands.
‘Let’s make friends again, Philip. I’m so sorry if I offend-
ed you.’
He could not prevent her from taking his hands, but he
could not look at her.
‘I’m afraid it’s too late,’ he said.
She let herself down on the floor by his side and clasped
his knees.
‘Philip, don’t be silly. I’m quick-tempered too and I can

Of Human Bondage