"Well, at any rate, I shall have to go and put it up."
"No, please don't."
"But suppose someone comes in?"
"They won't. And besides, if they did, they ought to think themselves jolly lucky; you look simply lovely!"
"Do I?" The words came in a soft whisper from lips almost touching his.
"As always." The hand that lay in his pressed tightly. "You'll stay like that, won't you?"
"If you're good."
"Darling!"
He did not tell her about the dinner. He suggested that he should call for her at six, and she was too excited at the time to take into account so material a consideration as food. But her eyes sparkled with pleasure when he took her into the little Soho restaurant where he had booked a table. She had never been in such a place before and her delight in the unfamiliar room and food was joy to Roland. For her it was a place of mystery and enchantment. She asked him hurried, excited questions: What sort of people came here? Did he think the lady in the corner was an actress? Who had painted the brightly coloured fresco? He persuaded her to take half-a-glass of wine; she sipped at it in a fascinating, nervous manner, with little pecks, as though she thought it were going to burn her, and between each sip she would smile at Roland over the rim of the wine-glass. As she sat she flung to left and right quick, eager glances at the waiter, the hangings, the occupants of the other tables. Her excitement charmed Roland. It was like seeing a child play with a new toy. In a way, too, it was an excitant to his vanity, a tribute to his manhood, to his superior knowledge of the world. And in the theatre, when the light was turned out, he sat close to her and held her hand tightly at the moments of dramatic tension; and when she marvelled at the beauty of the heroine he whispered in her ear: "Nothing like as pretty as you are!" And Mrs Whately, sitting on the other side of Roland, glanced at them from time to time with a kind indulgence, remembering her youth, and her early love-making. It was a memorably happy evening. When Roland walked back with April and kissed her good-night in the doorway she said nothing, but her hand clenched tightly on the lapel of his coat. And when he returned home he saw in his mother's eye an expression of love and gratitude that had not been there for a long while.