The Education of Eric Lane

to walk the whole way from Chelsea to Berkeley Square, Barbara wi

ay," she reminded him, as

, too," he

me as much as all that?" sh

lf with me. But even that doesn't matter so much as

r until she could kiss him. Still capable of being surprised, he thank

ing of dinner.… And again this evening. If-if I gave in and had a week in bed, I could twist you round my finger. Now, don't pull yourse

responsibility for her-as he had felt the night before when she had implicitly entrusted herself to him. He glanced down and found her walking with eyes c

th her eyes dark

ou'll write to me, perhaps I shall be coming up to London for just one night in a

y best consideration. G

r Er

lly; and at the end of Berkeley Street s

out Sat

ill less to make her think that he was going to please her. But, when she stopped him before walking on alone to he

ghted," he said with

night,

ht, Lady

tters and get into bed. Once there he found himself too tired even for the routine of reading the evening paper; and, while he tried to make

when the telephone-bell rang. The voi

light's out. And I'm goin

lly asleep,"

p? I am sorry. Go to sleep

, after all, to read the evening paper and two chapters of a novel be

ed until mid-day uninterrupted. Then, as it was his practice to walk for half-an-hour before luncheon, he abandoned his own pretence that he was away from London and stroll

e-faced law lord and a doctor with humorous, s

g of you nowadays," c

day," Eric answered, as he pulled a chair in to the table. "

ame back, I've been thinking that, if I had my life over again and could choose my o

powerful, lined face, tanned yellow

day is to get into old clothes and moon about the Docks

young friend do?"

bathroom poster of "A Divorce Has Been Arranged," the envelopes from his agent Grierson, containing cheques for-what would they be for?-the invitations, the pleasant hum of work and stir of interest a

ain," he answered slowly,

ith raised eyebrows, chewing

ng you'll say th

nd stood bashfully at a distance with a ta

'phone, sir,"

e page to a dark, ill-ventilated box

ul

to laughter. "You weren't at your flat, I just divined that you'd be lunching at your club. I looked in

e hardened and

then; and I'm

with?" she enquired wi

What is it, Lady Barbara?

you. Don't you li

per place. I say, you know, this i

ause; then a crestf

. I'm truly sorr

rbara!"

silence and then a brisk nasal

thfully back to

t with that damned

the gardens of Buckingham Palace. While the others drank their coffee, he tried to write a very short, very simple note which somehow rejected his best effort

bling one note,

with a delightful ripple of laughter, and he had driven it from her voice. When she apologized, there was

" he wrote. "I didn