"You eat something. I'm not hungry."
"Oh, don't you see I'm not either?" she demanded. "It's so nice here; the rain, and the fire―" She flexed her muscles, like a cat, and stared at the edge of the mantelpiece. The teacups smoked between them. She was sitting on an old sagging sofa, whose cloth was of a dull red. Thrown down on the hearth, face upwards, lay the paper on which he had copied the verses. She nodded towards it.
"Have you told Dr. Fell about that?"
"I've mentioned it. But I haven't told him your idea that there is something hidden… "
He realized that he had no idea what he was talking about. On an impulse that was as sudden as a blow in the chest, he rose to his feet. His legs felt light and shaky, and he could hear the teakettle singing loudly. He was conscious of her eyes, bright and steady in the firelight, as he went round to the sofa. For a moment she stared at the fire, and then turned towards him.
He found himself looking at the fire, its heat fierce on his eyes, listening vaguely to the singing kettle and the dim tumult of the rain. For a long time, when he had ceased to kiss her, she remained motionless against his shoulder, her eyes closed and waxen-lidded. Fear that he would be repulsed had lifted, and slowed the enormous pounding of his heart into a peace that was like a blanket drawn about them. He felt madly jubilant and, at the same time, stupid. Turning, he was startled to see her looking at the ceiling with a blank, wide-open stare.
His voice sounded loud in his own ears. "I―" he said, "I shouldn't have―"
The blank eyes moved over to his. They seemed to be looking up from some great depth. Slowly her arm moved up round his neck, and drew his face down again. A close, heart-pounding interval while the kettle ceased to sing and somebody seemed to be murmuring incoherently into his ear, through a warm mist. Then suddenly she broke away from him and got to her feet with a spasmodic motion. Walking back and forth in the lamplight, her cheeks flushed, she stopped before him.
"I know it," she said, breathlessly, in a hard voice. "I'm a callous little beast. I'm a rotter, that's all. To be doing that — with Martin…"
He got up sharply and took her by the shoulders.