The Trespasser

'Yet it is very much like the fog-horn,' she said, curiously interested.

'This time next week, Helena!' he said.

She suddenly went heavy, and stretched across to clasp his hand as it

lay upon the table.

'I shall be calling to you from Cornwall,' she said.

He did not reply. So often she did not take his meaning, but left him

alone with his sense of tragedy. She had no idea how his life was

wrenched from its roots, and when he tried to tell her, she balked him,

leaving him inwardly quite lonely.

'There is _no_ next week,' she declared, with great cheerfulness. 'There

is only the present.' At the same moment she rose and slipped across to him. Putting her arms

round his neck, she stood holding his head to her bosom, pressing it

close, with her hand among his hair. His nostrils and mouth were crushed

against her breast. He smelled the silk of her dress and the faint,

intoxicating odour of her person. With shut eyes he owned heavily to

himself again that she was blind to him. But some other self urged with

gladness, no matter how blind she was, so that she pressed his face

upon her.

She stroked and caressed his hair, tremblingly clasped his head against

her breast, as if she would never release him; then she bent to kiss his

forehead. He took her in his arms, and they were still for awhile.

Now he wanted to blind himself with her, to blaze up all his past and

future in a passion worth years of living.

After tea they rested by the fire, while she told him all the delightful

things she had found. She had a woman's curious passion for details, a

woman's peculiar attachment to certain dear trifles. He listened,

smiling, revived by her delight, and forgetful of himself. She soothed

him like sunshine, and filled him with pleasure; but he hardly attended

to her words.

'Shall we go out, or are you too tired? No, you are tired--you are very

tired,' said Helena.

She stood by his chair, looking down on him tenderly.

'No,' he replied, smiling brilliantly at her, and stretching his

handsome limbs in relief--'no, not at all tired now.' Helena continued to look down on him in quiet, covering tenderness. But

she quailed before the brilliant, questioning gaze of his eyes.

'You must go to bed early tonight,' she said, turning aside her face,

ruffling his soft black hair. He stretched slightly, stiffening his

arms, and smiled without answering. It was a very keen pleasure to be

thus alone with her and in her charge. He rose, bidding her wrap herself

up against the fog.