He was not so foolish as to think that Ethel would say, Go ahead, love him—for that was not what he wanted of Cliff; and he would have bitterly questioned Ethel’s love for him if she had advanced such a proposal. The fact that she was upset, perhaps beyond any possibility of his recovering her, proved without a doubt that she loved him truly. But could that be any consolation to him now, if, in the realization of such a fact, he was at last to lose her? His falling under Cliff’s spell was no more important than if he had had a holiday flirtation with a young girl; less so, in reality, for the one might lead to a secret if brief fulfillment, while this could never lead to anything. If he loved Cliff—very well, he loved him, and that was that; the thing ended as soon as it was accepted. Or had he been the kind to want or need physical love with another man, that would have been all right too, provided the love was real and inescapable; for what is is, and truth is truth, no matter what form it takes. But he was as unprepared by both temperament and experience to love Cliff as Cliff was to love him. Let them be fond of one another, if necessary, and forget it, as he was prepared to forget it. It was an episode, a passing thing, a sign of the times perhaps; Ethel could not—could not in her most extravagant imagination or deepest hurt—believe it meant anything more. But the fact that she did left him with no defense whatever, beyond his futile but honest explanation yesterday noon—oh, honest as he was able—of his understanding of what had happened to him.

A few guests had come down from the hotel but he lay with his eyes closed as before, ignoring them as if asleep. Presently he heard familiar voices coming across the sand.

“Look, kids, there’s the Herr Professor, baking himself to a turn. What’ll we do, heap ashes on the scholarly head?”

He opened his eyes and sat up. Bill Howard approached with Billie and Cliff Hauman.

“Is it fun being a bachelor again?” Howard asked.

“No.”

“My wife is writing letters. At least that’s what she said; but between you and me, I’ll bet she’s gone back to bed. Never saw anybody in my life who enjoyed sleep as much as Sadie.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Billie said, arranging herself under the sunshade. “Do you know I haven’t written a single thank-­you note for all those lovely wedding presents? Not a single one!”

“Good god,” Bill Howard said, “you’ve only been married three or four days. Plenty of time later when the long grind begins.”

“But four days!”