because in passion she was at home. But this was so still and frail, as space is more frightening than force.

Again, quickly, she lifted her head.

‘Do you love me?’ she said, quickly, impulsively.

‘Yes,’ he replied, not heeding her motion, only her stillness.

She knew it was true. She broke away.

‘So you ought,’ she said, turning round to look at the road. ‘Did you find the rings?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where are they?’

‘In my pocket.’

She put her hand into his pocket and took them out.