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ing against her knees, and smoked. Often they did not talk
at all, and sometimes Philip noticed that she had fallen into
a doze. He dared not move then in case he woke her, and he
sat very quietly, looking lazily into the fire and enjoying his
happiness.
‘Had a nice little nap?’ he smiled, when she woke.
‘I’ve not been sleeping,’ she answered. ‘I only just closed
my eyes.’
She would never acknowledge that she had been asleep.
She had a phlegmatic temperament, and her condition did
not seriously inconvenience her. She took a lot of trouble
about her health and accepted the advice of anyone who
chose to offer it. She went for a ‘constitutional’ every morn-
ing that it was fine and remained out a definite time. When
it was not too cold she sat in St. James’ Park. But the rest
of the day she spent quite happily on her sofa, reading one
novel after another or chatting with the landlady; she had
an inexhaustible interest in gossip, and told Philip with
abundant detail the history of the landlady, of the lodgers
on the drawing-room floor, and of the people who lived in
the next house on either side. Now and then she was seized
with panic; she poured out her fears to Philip about the pain
of the confinement and was in terror lest she should die; she
gave him a full account of the confinements of the landlady
and of the lady on the drawing-room floor (Mildred did not
know her; ‘I’m one to keep myself to myself,’ she said, ‘I’m
not one to go about with anybody.’) and she narrated details
with a queer mixture of horror and gusto; but for the most
part she looked forward to the occurrence with equanim-

Of Human Bondage