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sufficed to throw the youth of the sixties into a delirium of amorous
excitement。 It is all very estimable； no doubt。 But still〃Mr。 Scogan
sighed。〃I for one should like to see； mingled with this scientific ardour； a
little more of the jovial spirit of Rabelais and Chaucer。〃
〃I entirely disagree with you；〃 said Mary。 〃Sex isn't a laughing
matter； it's serious。〃
〃Perhaps；〃 answered Mr。 Scogan； 〃perhaps I'm an obscene old man。
For I must confess that I cannot always regard it as wholly serious。〃
〃But I tell you。。。〃 began Mary furiously。 Her face had flushed with
excitement。 Her cheeks were the cheeks of a great ripe peach。
〃Indeed；〃 Mr。 Scogan continued； 〃it seems to me one of few
permanently and everlastingly amusing subjects that exist。 Amour is the
one human activity of any importance in which laughter and pleasure
preponderate； if ever so slightly； over misery and pain。〃
〃I entirely disagree；〃 said Mary。 There was a silence。
Anne looked at her watch。 〃Nearly a quarter to eight；〃 she said。 〃I
wonder when Ivor will turn up。〃 She got up from her deck… chair and；
leaning her elbows on the balustrade of the terrace； looked out over the
valley and towards the farther hills。 Under the level evening light the
architecture of the land revealed itself。 The deep shadows； the bright
contrasting lights gave the hills a new solidity。 Irregularities of the
surface； unsuspected before； were picked out with light and shade。 The
grass； the corn； the foliage of trees were stippled with intricate shadows。
The surface of things had taken on a marvellous enrichment。
〃Look！〃 said Anne suddenly； and pointed。 On the opposite side of the
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valley； at the crest of the ridge； a cloud of dust flushed by the sunlight to
rosy gold was moving rapidly along the sky…line。 〃It's Ivor。 One can tell
by the speed。〃
The dust cloud descended into the valley and was lost。 A horn with
the voice of a sea…lion made itself heard； approaching。 A minute later
Ivor came leaping round the corner of the house。 His hair waved in the
wind of his own speed； he laughed as he saw them。
〃Anne； darling；〃 he cried； and embraced her； embraced Mary； very
nearly embraced Mr。 Scogan。 〃Well； here I am。 I've come with
incredulous speed。〃 Ivor's vocabulary was rich； but a little erratic。 〃I'm
not late for dinner； am I？〃 He hoisted himself up on to the balustrade；
and sat there； kicking his heels。 With one arm he embraced a large stone
flower…pot； leaning his head sideways against its hard and lichenous flanks
in an attitude of trustful affection。 He had brown； wavy hair； and his eyes
were of a very brilliant； pale； improbable blue。 His head was narrow； his
face thin and rather long； his nose aquiline。 In old age though it was
difficult to imagine Ivor oldhe might grow to have an Iron Ducal
grimness。 But now； at twenty…six； it was not the structure of his face that
impressed one； it was its expression。 That was charming and vivacious；
and his smile was an irradiation。 He was forever moving； restlessly and
rapidly； but with an engaging gracefulness。 His frail and slender body
seemed to be fed by a spring of inexhaustible energy。
〃No； you're not late。〃
〃You're in time to answer a question；〃 said Mr。 Scogan。 〃We were
arguing whether Amour were a serious matter or no。 What do you think？
Is it serious？〃
〃Serious？〃 echoed Ivor。 〃Most certainly。〃
〃I told you so；〃 cried Mary triumphantly。
〃But in what sense serious？〃 Mr。 Scogan asked。
〃I mean as an occupation。 One can go on with it without ever getting
bored。〃
〃I see；〃 said Mr。 Scogan。 〃Perfectly。〃
〃One can occupy oneself with it；〃 Ivor continued； 〃always and
everywhere。 Women are always wonderfully the same。 Shapes vary a
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little； that's all。 In Spain〃with his free hand he described a series of
ample curves〃one can't pass them on the stairs。 In England〃he put the
tip of his forefinger against the tip of his thumb and； lowering his hand；
drew out this circle into an imaginary cylinder〃In England they're
tubular。 But their sentiments are always the same。 At least； I've always
found it so。〃
〃I'm delighted to hear it；〃 said Mr。 Scogan。
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CHAPTER XVI。
The ladies had left the room and the port was circulating。 Mr。 Scogan
filled his glass； passed on the decanter； and； leaning back in his chair；
looked about him for a moment in silence。 The conversation rippled idly
round him； but he disregarded it； he was smiling at some private joke。
Gombauld noticed his smile。
〃What's amusing you？〃 he asked。
〃I was just looking at you all； sitting round this table；〃 said Mr。
Scogan。
〃Are we as comic as all that？〃
〃Not at all；〃 Mr。 Scogan answered politely。 〃I was merely amused by
my own speculations。〃
〃And what were they？〃
〃The idlest； the most academic of speculations。 I was looking at you
one by one and trying to imagine which of the first six Caesars you would
each resemble； if you were given the opportunity of behaving like a
Caesar。 The Caesars are one of my touchstones；〃 Mr。 Scogan explained。
〃They are characters functioning； so to speak； in the void。 They are
human beings developed to their logical conclusions。 Hence their
unequalled value as a touchstone； a standard。 When I meet someone for
the first time； I ask myself this question： Given the Caesarean
environment； which of the Caesars would this person resemble Julius；
Augustus； Tiberius； Caligula； Claudius； Nero？