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Beyond the tall shrubs and the high, heavy railings the wet street gleamed silently. The houses of the Square rose like a cliff on this inner dark sea, dimly lighted at occasional windows. Boughs swayed and sang. A taxi-cab swirled round a corner like a cat, and purred to a standstill. There was a light of an open hall door. But all far away, it seemed, unthinkably far away. Aaron sat still and watched. He was frightened, it all seemed so sinister, this dark, bristling heart of London. Wind boomed and tore like waves ripping a shingle beach. The two white lights of the taxi stared round and departed, leaving the coast at the foot of the cliffs deserted, faintly spilled with light from the high lamp.

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“Oh, him!— no, not actually. He’s self-conscious and selfish and hysterical. It isn’t a bit funny after a while.” “I only know what I’ve seen,” said Aaron. “You’d both of you like a bloody revolution, though.” “Yes. Only when it came he wouldn’t be there.” “Would you?” “Yes, indeed I would. I would give everything to be in it. I’d give heaven and earth for a great big upheaval — and then darkness.” “Perhaps you’ll get it, when you die,” said Aaron. “Oh, but I don’t want to die and leave all this standing.

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“No one, now mother is dead. Nothing nearer than aunts and cousins in America. I suppose I shall see them all again one day. But they hardly count over here.” “Why don’t you get married?” he said. “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-five. How old are you?” “Thirty-three.” “You might almost be any age.— I don’t know why I don’t get married. In a way, I hate earning my own living — yet I go on — and I like my work —” “What are you doing now?” “I’m painting scenery for a new play — rather fun — I enjoy it. But I often wonder what will become of me.” “In what way?” She was almost affronted. “What becomes of me?

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He had a curious quality of an intelligent, almost sophisticated mind, which had repudiated education. On purpose he kept the midland accent in his speech. He understood perfectly what a personification was — and an allegory. But he preferred to be illiterate. Josephine found out what a miner’s checkweighman was. She tried to find out what sort of wife Aaron had — but, except that she was the daughter of a publican and was delicate in health, she could learn nothing. “And do you send her money?” she asked. “Ay,” said Aaron. “The house is mine. And I allow her so much a week out of the money in the bank.

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“Oh, how awfully interesting. It’s quite a long time since I’ve been a personification.— I suppose you’ve never been one before?” said Clariss, turning to Aaron in conclusion. “No, I don’t think I have,” he answered. “I hope personification is right.— Ought to be allegory or something else?” This from Clariss to Robert. “Or a parable, Clariss,” laughed the young lieutenant. “Goodbye,” said Tanny. “I’ve been awfully bored.” “Have you?” grinned Jim. “Goodbye!