Part 46 (2/2)

After trying for so long not to think of Barbara, he found that hehim back in April, ”when the weather's a bitso soon,” said his retfully

”Geoff's due for leave next month”

”Tell him I was sorry to miss him,” Eric answered ”I'm afraid the boat won't wait for ood-bye in the hall, explaining that he was unlikely to see them next day He had promised to lunch with Manders and to dine with the Poynters; and, though either engageht have been cancelled, he could not screw hi

It was curious to feel, as he walked ho the last day of his life in London Only once more would he unlock the street door and enter the dimly-lit hall which Barbara had invaded fifteenhe bade aard farewell to his secretary On his way to luncheon he paused on the steps of the Thespian, trying to see it as a club and not as one of many places where Barbara had telephoned to hine luncheon to wish hi the tour was to be; and Eric wondered whether a suicide or a conde, recurrently spiced with surprise He would never sit in the oak-panelled dining-roohout the ritual of the day he could not grow accustoood-bye It was all so fa was over By an error of judgerave Square, as when first he dined there Lady Poynter protested that she had given up hope of him Her husband took him aside to enquire whether he found Gabarnac too sweet, because he had a bottle on which he would value expert opinion It was all so like the night of fifteen e was booked and his trunks packed Lady Poynter began counting her guests with jerks of a fat, slow forefinger ”Two, three, five, seven, nine, elevenThen there's one more Ah!”

She looked over Eric's shoulder as the door opened and the butler announced:

”Lady Barbara Neave”

Under the blaze of the chandelier and a!”

”Hullo, Babs,” Eric found no difficulty in re composed She was the ht of hiaret, you must send him home at once! He's been very ill and he's no business to be out of _bed_!”

”But he's going to A us”

For a moment Barbara's face was blank She recovered quickly and repeated: ”_To- dinner, darling,” said Lady Poynter, with a lance at the clock

It was all so faed, if he had not been put next to Barbara

”I'ain, Eric,” she whispered: ”Dr Gaisford was so gloo have you been allowed out?”

”Oh, a week”

”And you never told me? You never wrote or telephoned----”

Eric felt his face stiffening into unaony of the first four days' silence

”You never wrote or telephoned to me,” he interrupted

”The doctor told me I mustn't He put me on my honour I'm not sure that I didn't really break my hen I sent you those flowers” Her hand stole out and sought his under the table ”Don't you think it would have been kind to let me know? Don't you think it's possible Iabout you?”

Eric dropped his napkin and picked it up again for an excuse to escape her hand

”Isn't it rather late in the day to begin worrying?” he asked The girl winced and bit her lip ”I was only a bit overwrought,” he added ”Now I' else to tell you”

”About America? I saw it in some paper, but I didn't bother about the date I didn't think it necessary Eric--Eric, you _weren't_ going aithout saying good-bye?”

He turned upon her so suddenly that she was frozen into silence

”Would _you_ have had anything to say, if you hadn't promised Gaisford not to communicate with me?”