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word。
〃Yes？〃 he said。
Oliver turned his face away。
〃You remember what I told you in the summer。 Well； it's worse now。
I've been going a mucker lately in all sorts of ways to try and get
rid of it。 But it's all no good。 She's got me！〃
And Lennan thought： You're not alone in that！ But he kept silence。
His chief dread was of saying something that he would remember
afterwards as the words of Judas。
Then Oliver suddenly burst out：
〃Why can't she care？ I suppose I'm nothing much； but she's known
me all her life； and she used to like me。 There's somethingI
can't make out。 Could you do anything for me with her？〃
Lennan pointed across the street。
〃In every other one of those houses； Oliver；〃 he said； 〃there's
probably some creature who can't make out why another creature
doesn't care。 Passion comes when it will； goes when it will； and
we poor devils have no say in it。〃
〃What do you advise me； then？〃
Lennan had an almost overwhelming impulse to turn on his heel and
leave the young man standing there。 But he forced himself to look
at his face； which even then had its attractionperhaps more so
than ever； so pallid and desperate it was。 And he said slowly；
staring mentally at every word：
〃I'm not up to giving you advice。 The only thing I might say is：
One does not press oneself where one isn't wanted； all the same
who knows？ So long as she feels you're there； waiting； she might
turn to you at any moment。 The more chivalrous you are； Oliver；
the more patiently you wait； the better chance you have。〃
Oliver took those words of little comfort without flinching。 〃I
see；〃 he said。 〃Thanks！ But； my God！ it's hard。 I never could
wait。〃 And with that epigram on himself； holding out his hand； he
turned away。
Lennan went slowly home； trying to gauge exactly how anyone who
knew all would judge him。 It was a little difficult in this affair
to keep a shred of dignity。
Sylvia had not gone up； and he saw her looking at him anxiously。
The one strange comfort in all this was that his feeling for her；
at any rate； had not changed。 It seemed even to have deepenedto
be more real to him。
How could he help staying awake that night？ How could he help
thinking； then？ And long time he lay； staring at the dark。
As if thinking were any good for fever in the veins！
X
Passion never plays the game。 It； at all events； is free from
self…consciousness； and pride； from dignity； nerves； scruples；
cant； moralities； from hypocrisies； and wisdom； and fears for
pocket； and position in this world and the next。 Well did the old
painters limn it as an arrow or a wind！ If it had not been as
swift and darting； Earth must long ago have drifted through space
untenantedto let。 。 。 。
After that fevered night Lennan went to his studio at the usual
hour and naturally did not do a stroke of work。 He was even
obliged to send away his model。 The fellow had been his
hairdresser； but； getting ill； and falling on dark days； one
morning had come to the studio； to ask with manifest shame if his
head were any good。 After having tested his capacity for standing
still； and giving him some introductions； Lennan had noted him
down： 〃Five feet nine； good hair； lean face； something tortured and
pathetic。 Give him a turn if possible。〃 The turn had come； and
the poor man was posing in a painful attitude； talking； whenever
permitted； of the way things had treated him； and the delights of
cutting hair。 This morning he took his departure with the simple
pleasure of one fully paid for services not rendered。
And so； walking up and down； up and down； the sculptor waited for
Nell's knock。 What would happen now？ Thinking had made nothing
clear。 Here was offered what every warm…blooded man whose Spring
is past desiresyouth and beauty； and in that youth a renewal of
his own； what all men save hypocrites and Englishmen would even
admit that they desired。 And it was offered to one who had neither
religious nor moral scruples； as they are commonly understood。 In
theory he could accept。 In practice he did not as yet know what he
could do。 One thing only he had discovered during the night's
reflections： That those who scouted belief in the principle of
Liberty made no greater mistake than to suppose that Liberty was
dangerous because it made a man a libertine。 To those with any
decency； the creed of Freedom wasof allthe most enchaining。
Easy enough to break chains imposed by others； fling his cap over
the windmill； and cry for the moment at least： I am unfettered；
free！ Hard； indeed； to say the same to his own unfettered Self！
Yes； his own Self was in the judgment…seat； by his own verdict and
decision he must abide。 And though he ached for the sight of her；
and his will seemed paralyzedmany times already he had thought：
It won't do！ God help me！
Then twelve o'clock had come； and she had not。 Would 'The Girl on
the Magpie Horse' be all he would see of her to…daythat
unsatisfying work； so cold； and devoid of witchery？ Better have
tried to paint herwith a red flower in her hair； a pout on her
lips； and her eyes fey； or languorous。 Goya could have painted
her！
And then； just as he had given her up； she came。
After taking one look at his face； she slipped in ever so quietly；
like a very good child。 。 。 。 Marvellous the instinct and finesse
of the young when they are women！ 。 。 。 Not a vestige in her of
yesterday's seductive power； not a sign that there had been a
yesterday at alljust confiding； like a daughter。 Sitting there；
telling him about Ireland； showing him the little batch of drawings
she had done while she was away。 Had she brought them because she
knew they would make him feel sorry for her？ What could have been
less dangerous； more appealing to the protective and paternal side
of him than she was that morning； as if she only wanted what her
father and her home could not give heronly wanted to be a sort of
daughter to him！
She went away demurely； as she had come； refusing to stay to lunch；
manifestly avoiding Sylvia。 Only then he realized that she must
have taken alarm from the look of strain on his face； been afraid
that he would send her away； only then perceived that； with her
appeal to his protection； she had been binding him closer； making
it harder for him to break away and hurt her。 And the fevered
aching began againworse than everthe moment he lost sight of
her。 And more than ever he felt in the grip of something beyond
his power to fight against； something that； however he swerved； and
backed； and broke away； would close in on him； find means to bind
him again hand and foot。
In the afternoon Dromore's confidential man brought him a note。
The fellow； with his cast…down eyes； and his well…parted hair；
seemed to Lennan to be saying： 〃Yes； sirit is quite natural that
you should take the note out of eyeshot； sirBUT I KNOW；
fortunately； there is no necessity for alarmI am strictly
confidential。〃
And this was what the note contained：
〃You promised to ride with me onceyou DID promise； and you never
have。 Do please ride with me to…morrow； then you will get what you
want for the statuette