he said, grimly. ‘But I want it to be something else.’

‘But why? But why?’ she insisted, bending her wonderful luminous face to him. ‘Why isn’t it enough?’

‘Because we can go one better,’ he said, putting his arms round her.

‘No, we can’t,’ she said, in a strong, voluptuous voice of yielding. ‘We can only love each other. Say “my love” to me, say it, say it.’

She put her arms round his neck. He enfolded her, and kissed her subtly, murmuring in a subtle voice of love, and irony, and submission:

‘Yes, — my love, yes, — my love. Let love be enough then. I love you then — I love you. I’m bored by the rest.’

‘Yes,’ she murmured, nestling very sweet and close to him.