This change was certainly one for the better, though Mr. Cromartie reflected that in time it might become as tedious as ill-natured remarks had been formerly. His defence was the same against each, that is, he shut his ears, never looked through the netting if he could help it, and read his books as if he were indeed a scholar working in his own study.

He was sitting in this way reading “Wilhelm Meister,” with his companion the Caracal at his feet, when he suddenly heard his name called and looked up.

There was Josephine, standing before him, looking in at him, her face pale, her mouth rigid, and her eyes staring.

Up jumped Mr. Cromartie, but as he was surprised his self-control was gone for an instant.

“My God! What have you come for?” he asked her in agitated tones.

Josephine was taken aback for a moment by this greeting, and as he strode to the front of his cage, stepped back away from him. For the moment she was confused. Then she said:

“I have come to ask you about a book. The second volume of “Les Liaisons Dangereuses.” Aunt Eiley is fussing about it. She says the plates make it a very valuable edition. She suspects me of reading it too, and thinks it unsuitable…”

As she spoke Cromartie began laughing, screwing up his eyes and showing his teeth.

“So my forgetfulness has got you into a scrape, has it?” he asked. Then: “I’m most awfully sorry. I’ve actually got it here. I’ll post it to you tonight. I can’t slip it through the wire netting, unfortunately. That’s one of the drawbacks of living in a cage.”

Josephine had not seen Cromartie looking so charming for a long time. Her own expression changed also, but she still remained shy and awkward, and was obviously afraid of someone coming into the Ape-house and finding them together, talking.

For a moment or two they were silent. She looked at the Caracal and said:

“I read in the paper about your having a companion. I expect it is a very good plan. You are looking better. I’ve been having bronchitis, and have been laid up for a fortnight since you saw me last.”

But as Josephine spoke Cromartie’s face clouded over again. He noticed her awkwardness and was annoyed by it. He remembered also her last visit, and how she had behaved then. Recollecting all this he frowned, drew himself up, rubbed his nose rather crossly and said:

“You must realise, Josephine, that seeing you is excessively painful to me. In fact I am not sure I can endure being exposed to the danger of it any longer. Last time you came to see me for the purpose of informing me that you think I am mad. I don’t think you are right, but if I cannot guard myself from seeing you I daresay I shall go mad. I must therefore ask you in the interests of my own health, if for nothing else, never to come near me again. If you have anything to say of an urgent nature—if there should be another book of yours, or any reason of that sort, you can always write to me. Nothing you can say or do can be anything but extremely painful and exhausting, even if you felt kindly disposed towards me; but from your behaviour I can only conclude you want to give me pain and come here to amuse yourself by hurting me. I warn you I am not going to submit to being tortured.”