Page 608 - of-human-bondage-

Her hat was in her way, and Philip took it off for her. He
placed her head more comfortably in the chair, and then he
went and sat down at the table and looked at her.
‘It is awful, love, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Fancy anyone wanting
to be in love.’
Presently the violence of her sobbing diminished and she
sat in the chair, exhausted, with her head thrown back and
her arms hanging by her side. She had the grotesque look of
one of those painters’ dummies used to hang draperies on.
‘I didn’t know you loved him so much as all that,’ said
Philip.
He understood Griffiths’ love well enough, for he put
himself in Griffiths’ place and saw with his eyes, touched
with his hands; he was able to think himself in Griffiths’
body, and he kissed her with his lips, smiled at her with his
smiling blue eyes. It was her emotion that surprised him.
He had never thought her capable of passion, and this was
passion: there was no mistaking it. Something seemed to
give way in his heart; it really felt to him as though some-
thing were breaking, and he felt strangely weak.
‘I don’t want to make you unhappy. You needn’t come
away with me if you don’t want to. I’ll give you the money
all the same.’
She shook her head.
‘No, I said I’d come, and I’ll come.’
‘What’s the good, if you’re sick with love for him?’
‘Yes, that’s the word. I’m sick with love. I know it won’t
last, just as well as he does, but just now...’
She paused and shut her eyes as though she were going

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