She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. Jonathan had not deceived him. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. Rollo began to cavort. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. It did not seem quite fair. There was a man, a boy, and a woman. But it was now too late to turn back, and, nerving himself for the shock he expected to encounter, he ventured after his conductor.
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