Presently the still white figure moved, and, bare-footed, crossed the floor between the two beds. For a little while she stood looking down upon the sleeping man; then, in answer to a human impulse too gentle, and yet too strong to be denied, stooped and laid her head beside his upon the pillow. Her breath was warm upon his cheek, but he made no movement; her hair tressed upon his arm, but it did not quicken to life and fold around her, as a husband’s might; her lips were almost touching his, but he did not move that they might meet in the darkness.
With a little catch in her throat Eve lifted herself and crossed to the lonely shadows beneath the sloping roof.
IV
“May I read these?” asked Eve.
She had unearthed a box full of old manuscripts he had written and cast aside.
“Burn ’em, if you like,” he replied.
She chose one from the pile, saying:
“Have they been sent anywhere?”
“Oh yes, a few have been the round. They are true to the boomerang type, for they always returned to the point of departure.”
She curled herself in the big armchair and began to read. The breakfast things had been washed up, the beds made, and the rooms tidied.