She had always prided herself on her reserve, on the control of her emotions, on her contempt for animal passion, and now she could have flung her arms round Tony’s neck and kissed his eyes, his hair, his mouth. She watched him, his round curly head, his brown neck, the swing of his shoulders, his splendid stride.
“Let’s sit down here,” he said; “they can’t see us now. I’m not going to help ’em any more. They’ll call us when they’re ready.”
She sat down on a rock and faced the sweep of the sea, curved like a purple bow in the hands of some mighty archer. He flung himself down on to his chest and looked up at her, his face propped on his hands.
“I say, Alice, old girl,” he said, “this is the first decent talk we’ve had for days. I suppose it’s been my fault. I’m awfully sorry, and I really don’t know how the time’s gone; there’s been a lot to do, somehow, and yet it’s hard to say exactly what one’s done.”
“You’ve been with Mr. Maradick,” she said almost fiercely.
He looked up at her, surprised at her tone. “Why, yes, I suppose I have. He’s a good chap, Maradick. I have been about with him a good bit.”
“I can’t quite see,” she said slowly, looking down at the ground, “what the attraction is. He’s nice enough, of course; a nice old man, but rather dull.”
“Oh, I don’t know about old, Alice. He’s much younger than you’d think, and he’s anything but dull. That’s only because you don’t know him. He is quiet when other people are there; but he’s awfully true and straight. And you know as one gets older, without being priggish about it, one chooses one’s friends for that sort of thing, not for superficial things a bit. I used to think it mattered whether they cared about the same ideas and were—well, artistic, you know. But that’s all rot; what really matters is whether they’ll stick to you and last.”
“One thing I always said about you, Tony,” she answered, “is that you don’t, as you say, stick. It’s better, you know, to be off with the old friends before you are on with the new.”
“Oh! I say!” He could scarcely speak for astonishment. “Alice! what’s the matter? Why, you don’t think I’ve changed about you, do you? I know—these past few days——”
“Oh, please don’t apologise, Tony,” she said, speaking very quickly. “I’m not making complaints. If you would rather be with Mr. Maradick, do. Make what friends you like; only when one comes down to stay, one expects to see something of you, just at meals, you know.”