the eyes that were so unchallenged and still in the satirical face. Gerald, full-limbed and turgid with energy, stood unwilling to go, he was held by the presence of the other man. He had not the power to go away.

‘So,’ said Birkin. ‘Good-bye.’ And he reached out his hand from under the bed-clothes, smiling with a glimmering look.

‘Good-bye,’ said Gerald, taking the warm hand of his friend in a firm grasp. ‘I shall come again. I miss you down at the mill.’

‘I’ll be there in a few days,’ said Birkin.

The eyes of the two men met again. Gerald’s, that were keen as a hawk’s, were suffused now with warm light and with unadmitted love, Birkin looked