"I'm not cold, now. I'm warm. Feel my hands."
She held them out to him. He did not touch them. But he put his arm round her and raised her to her feet. And they went back together along the narrow Cliff-path. It was dangerous in the perishing light. He took her hands in his now, and led her sidelong. When her feet slipped in the slimy chalk, he held her up with his arm.
At the little gate she turned to him.
"I was kind to Bunny," she said, "I was really."
"I am sure," he said gently, "you are kind to everybody."
"That's something, isn't it?"
"I'm not sure that it isn't everything."
They went up the side of the garden, along the shrubbery, by a path that led to the main entrance of the hotel. A great ring of white light lay on the wet ground before the porch, thrown from the electric lamps within.
Mrs. Tailleur stepped back into the darkness by the shrubbery. "Look here," she said, "I'm going in by myself. You are going round another way. You have not seen me. You don't know where I am. You don't know anything about me."
"I know," said Lucy, "you are coming in with me."