“I suppose that English something in me, which has survived, was what sprang so instantly to you—recognition.”
“You have been in England, and you have met many Englishmen.”
“I have liked some of them tremendously, although I never would admit it, and always bullyragged them; that mixture of subtlety and brutality is very attractive. But it was not the same—not by any means.”
“You force me to repeat that you take very great risks.”
“No, no,” she said plaintively. “How could I? I am not what you imagined me. But I must stay here and talk to you.”
They talked until the night turned grey, drifting no more toward personalities. Then Clive looked at his watch.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“I do not in the least care.”
“It is three o’clock. And I can see that you are tired. Come!”
She rose and he jerked her shawl across her chest and threw one end over her shoulder. “What a silly child you are to come out with that bare neck. Aren’t you chilled?”