"Don't you remember?"
She shifted round in the chair till he could only see her shoulder, and the side of her head and neck, on which the loose hair was tumbling in ugly confusion. Sitting thus she threw back at him the sentence:
"I don't want to remember nothing. I don't want to remember."
Julian stood hesitating. He glanced at Cuckoo's hair and at the back of her thin hand moving to and fro above the little contented dog.
"Why not?" he said.
At first she made no answer to this question, and seemed as if she had not heard it, but presently it appeared that her silence had been caused by the effect of consideration, for at length she said, still retaining her aloof attitude:
"I don't want to remember, because it's like a beastly dream, and when I remember I know it ain't a dream."
Julian said nothing, and suddenly Cuckoo turned round to him, and took her hand from Jessie's back.
"I say. You were mad last night. Now, weren't you?"
The words came from her almost pleadingly, and her eyes rested on
Julian's insistently, as if demanding an affirmative.