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ly with her face close above her arm。 She stopped at Blanca's entrance。 Mr。 Stone did not stop； but； holding up his other hand； said：
〃I will take you through the last three pages again。 Follow！〃
Blanca sat down at the window。
Her father's voice； so thin and slow； with each syllable disjointed from the other； rose like monotony itself。
〃'There were tra…cea…able indeed； in those days； certain rudi…men… tary at…tempts to f…u…s…e the classes。。。。'〃
It went on unwavering； neither rising high nor falling low； as though the reader knew he had yet far to go； like a runner that brings great news across mountains； plains； and rivers。
To Blanca that thin voice might have been the customary sighing of the wind； her attention was so fast fixed on the girl； who sat following the words down the pages with her pen's point。
Mr。 Stone paused。
〃Have you got the word 'insane'？〃 he asked。
The little model raised her face。 〃Yes； Mr。 Stone。〃
〃Strike it out。〃
With his eyes fixed on the trees he stood breathing audibly。 The little model moved her fingers； freeing them from cramp。 Blanca's curious； smiling scrutiny never left her； as though trying to fix an indelible image on her mind。 There was something terrifying in that stare； cruel to herself； cruel to the girl。
〃The precise word；〃 said Mr。 Stone； 〃eludes me。 Leave a blank。 Follow！。。。 'Neither that sweet fraternal interest of man in man； nor a curiosity in phenomena merely as phenomena。。。。'〃 His voice pursued its tenuous path through spaces； frozen by the calm eternal presence of his beloved idea； which； like a golden moon； far and cold； presided glamorously above the thin track of words。 And still the girl's pen…point traced his utterance across the pages： Mr。 Stone paused again； and looking at his daughter as though surprised to see her sitting there； asked：
〃Do you wish to speak to me； my dear？〃
Blanca shook her head。
〃Follow！〃 said Mr。 Stone。
But the little model's glance had stolen round to meet the scrutiny fixed on her。
A look passed across her face which seemed to say： 'What have I done to you； that you should stare at me like this？'
Furtive and fascinated； her eyes remained fixed on Bianca； while her hand moved； mechanically ticking the paragraphs。 That silent duel of eyes went onthe woman's fixed； cruel； smiling； the girl's uncertain； resentful。 Neither of them heard a word that Mr。 Stone was reading。 They treated it as； from the beginning； Life has treated Philosophyand to the end will treat it。
Mr。 Stone paused again； seeming to weigh his last sentences。
〃That； I think；〃 he murmured to himself； 〃is true。〃 And suddenly he addressed his daughter。 〃Do you agree with me； my dear？〃
He was evidently waiting with anxiety for her answer； and the little silver hairs that straggled on his lean throat beneath his beard were clearly visible。
〃Yes； Father； I agree。〃
〃Ah！〃 said Mr。 Stone； 〃I am glad that you confirm me。 I was anxious。 Follow！〃
Bianca rose。 Burning spots of colour had settled in her cheeks。 She went towards the door； and the little model pursued her figure with a long look； cringing； mutinous； and wistful。
CHAPTER XX
THE HUSBAND AND THE WIFE
It was past six o'clock when Hilary at length reached home； preceded a little by Miranda； who almost felt within her the desire to eat。 The lilac bushes； not yet in flower； were giving forth spicy fragrance。 The sun still netted their top boughs； as with golden silk； and a blackbird； seated on a low branch of the acacia…tree； was summoning the evening。 Mr。 Stone； accompanied by the little model； dressed in her new clothes； was coming down the path。 They were evidently going for a walk； for Mr。 Stone wore his hat； old and soft and black； with a strong green tinge； and carried a paper parcel； which leaked crumbs of bread at every step。
The girl grew very red。 She held her head down； as though afraid of Hilary's inspection of her new clothes。 At the gate she suddenly looked up。 His face said： 'Yes； you look very nice！' And into her eyes a look leaped such as one may see in dogs' eyes lifted in adoration to their masters' faces。 Manifestly disconcerted； Hilary turned to Mr。 Stone。 The old man was standing very still； a thought had evidently struck him。 〃I have not； I think；〃 he said； 〃given enough consideration to the question whether force is absolutely； or only relatively； evil。 If I saw a man ill…treat a cat； should I be justified in striking him？〃
Accustomed to such divagations； Hilary answered： 〃I don't know whether you would be justifed； but I believe that you would strike him。〃
〃I am not sure；〃 said Mr。 Stone。 〃We are going to feed the birds。〃
The little model took the paper bag。 〃It's all dropping out；〃 she said。 From across the road she turned her head。。。。'Won't you come； too？' she seemed to say。
But Hilary passed rather hastily into the garden and shut the gate behind him。 He sat in his study； with Miranda near him； for fully an hour； without doing anything whatever； sunk in a strange； half… pleasurable torpor。 At this hour he should have been working at his book； and the fact that his idleness did not trouble him might well have given him uneasiness。 Many thoughts passed through his mind； imaginings of things he had thought left behind foreversensations and longings which to the normal eye of middle age are but dried forms hung in the museum of memory。 They started up at the whip of the still…living youth； the lost wildness at the heart of every man。 Like the reviving flame of half…spent fires； longing for discovery leaped and flickered in Hilaryto find out once again what things were like before he went down the hill of age。
No trivial ghost was beckoning him； it was the ghost； with unseen face and rosy finger； which comes to men when youth has gone。
Miranda； hearing him so silent； rose。 At this hour it was her master's habit to scratch paper。 She； who seldom scratched anything； because it was not delicate； felt dimly that this was what he should be doing。 She held up a slim foot and touched his knee。 Receiving no discouragement； she delicately sprang into his lap； and； forgetting for once her modesty； placed her arms on his chest； and licked his face all over。
It was while receiving this embrace that Hilary saw Mr。 Stone and the little model returning across the garden。 The old man was walking very rapidly； holding out the fragment of a broken stick。 He was extremely pink。
Hilary went to meet them。
〃What's the matter； sir？〃 he said。
〃I cut him over the legs；〃 said Mr。 Stone。 〃I do not regret it〃； and he walked on to his room。
Hilary turned to the little model。
〃It was a little dog。 The man kicked it； and Mr。 Stone hit him。 He broke his stick。 There were several men； they threatened us。〃 She looked up at Hilary。 〃I…I was frightened。 Oh！ Mr。 Dallison； isn't he funny？〃
〃All heroes are funny；〃 murmured Hilary。
〃He wanted to hit them again； after his stick was broken。 Then a policeman came； and they all ran away。〃
〃That was quite as it should be；〃 said Hilary。 〃And what did you do？〃
Perceiving that she had not as yet made much effect； the little model cast