up to her. He said gently:

"Mrs. Clayton --Elsie ?"

She started violently and looked up at

him. Harold sat down beside her.

He said with real sympathy :

"Is there anything I can do? Anything

at all r9

She shook her head.

"No--no--you're very kind. But

there's nothing any one can do for me."

Harold said rather diffidently:

"Is it to do with --your husband ?"

She nodded. Then she wiped her eyes

and took out her powder compact, strugLOH15

215

gling to regain command of herself. She

said in a quavering voice:

"I didn't want Mother to worry. She's

so upset when she sees me unhappy. So

I came out here to have a good cry. It's

silly, I know. Crying doesn't help. But —

sometimes — one just feels that life is

quite unbearable."

Harold said:

"I'm terribly sorry."

She threw him a grateful glance. Then

she said hurriedly:

"It's my own fault, of course. I married

Philip of my own free will. It—it's

turned out badly, I've only myself to

blame."

Harold said:

"It's very plucky of you to put it like

that."

Elsie shook her head.

"No, I'm not plucky. I'm not brave at

all. I'm an awful coward. That's partly

the trouble with Philip. I'm terrified of

him — absolutely terrified — when he gets

in one of his rages."

Harold said with feeling:

"You ought to leave him!"

"I daren't. He — he wouldn't let me."

216

' "Nonsense! What about a divorce ?"

She shook her head slowly.

"I've no grounds." She straightened

her shoulders. "No, I've got to carry on. I

spend a fair amount of time with Mother, you know. Philip doesn't mind that. Especially when we go somewhere off the

beaten track like this." She added, the

colour rising in her cheeks, "You see, part of the trouble is that he's insanely jealous. If--if I so much as speak to

another man he makes the most frightful

scenes."

Harold's indignation rose. He had heard

many women complain of the jealousy of

a husband, and whilst professing sympathy, had been secretly of the opinion that the husband was amply justified. But Elsie

Clayton was one of those women. She had

never thrown him so much as a flirtatious

glance.

Elsie drew away from him with a slight

shiver. She glanced up at the sky.

"The sun's gone in. It's quite cold.

We'd better get back to the hotel. It must

be nearly lunch time."

They got up and turned in the direction

of the hotel. They had walked for perhaps

217

a minute when they overtook a figure

going in the same direction. They recognised

her by the napping cloak she wore.

It was one of the Polish sisters.

They passed her, Harold bowing slightly.

She made no response but her eyes rested

on them both for a minute and there was

a certain appraising quality in the glance

which made Harold feel suddenly hot.

He wondered if the woman had seen him