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The girl slid her arms round his neck and held him close.

“I know,” she whispered.

Caress and word seemed to relieve the strain. The man relaxed sensibly. After a moment’s silence he turned and kissed her mouth.

“I blame myself,” he said quietly enough. “I’m older than you, and I shouldn’t have let it go on. I know we’d an understanding—a blessed, faithful agreement, faithfully kept. There never was, I believe, such natural sympathy. But these things bank up, Pat: and, if we weren’t to marry, we should never have been engaged.... It was defying Nature. In a way it was our affair, but it was out of joint. It’s been—perfect.... But it was out of joint. Well, now that dislocation has got to be reduced. Very good. We knew it must come. Our eyes were open. That was the basis of our understanding—that sooner or later it must end. But I think we forgot—the adhesions ... the seals that Nature sets upon things that are out of joint. They take some breaking—adhesions. ... And—they’ve—got to be broken—to-night.” With a sharp sob Patricia drew in her breath; then she let it go pelting and drooped her head. “We’ve played about so far. You know we have. Feinting, ducking, side-stepping, covering up. Well, now we’ve got to mix it and knock Things out.”