Complete Plays of John Galsworthy

e far out. He could never have done this if there had not been between them the accidental revelation of that night at Monkland; nor even then perhaps

ore of the senses and the heart, but on the score of her spirit and curiosity, which Courtier had awakened and caused to flap their wings a little. She worried over Miltoun's forlorn case; it hurt her too to think of Mrs. Noel eating her heart out in that lonely cottage. A s

e larks were hymning the promise of the unripe corn; the foreshore was painted all colours, from vivid green to mushroom pink; by the edge of the blue sea little black figures stooped, gathering sapphire. The air smelled

s short

given without move

hing, if that blue up there is a morass of our invention, if we are pettily, creeping on f

rbara could only put out her hand, an

spoil it by feeling pity! In old days we went to the Tower for our convictions. We ca

Barbara answered in

must, I suppose. But wh

at I can'

found

ra fl

Life!" s

little black stooping figures had not yet finished their toil, the larks still sang over the unripe corn-when Har

less likely than ever to see what was happening with other people's. Yet, he did notice that Barbara was looking pale, and-it seemed-sweeter than ever.... With her eldest brother he always somehow felt ill at ease. He could not exactly afford to despise an uncompromising spirit in one of his own order, but he was no more impervious than others to Miltoun's caustic, thin

ses. In fact, his sensations there and since had been a revelation, or would have teen if he could have stood apart to see them. True, he had gone about next day with his usual cool, off-hand manner, because one naturally did not let people see, but it was with such an inner aching and rage of want and jealousy as to really merit pity. Men of his physically big, rather rushing, type, are the last to possess their souls in patience. Walking home after the

ess, and the pain it made him suffer. When they reached the house, and she left him at the stable-yard, saying she was going to get some flowers, he jerked the beast's bridle and swore at it for its slowness in entering the stable. He, was terrified that she would be gone before he could get into the

suddenly he recoiled, and his heart stood still at his own outrageous daring. What had he done? He saw her

ht that someone might come. He muttered hoarsely: "By God, I was mad!" and stood

ou were

up to her lips as if he had h

ve me,

, no longer daring to look at her, beaten all over by

mind it-

could she not mind, if she did not love him! She was passing her hand

we go in?

took a ste

ill put my life in your hands,

ct nature he had very little

within three yards,

ilence, they walked

when Harbinger had sallied forth to ride back along the sands, she took her candle and invited Barbara to retire. Then, having admitted her granddaughter to the apartment

to your senses, at

d be too dreadful, she raised herself, and went to the window. There, staring out over the dark fields and dark sea,

s what it