“So that’s how it is,” said Hilary, and he had never thought of it quite that way before.

“But—you’d rather it was me?” George persisted hopefully.

“We won’t go into that now.”

“Yes, we will!” He bent to look into her averted face. “You’d rather it was me—wouldn’t you!”

“All right—” she sighed. “Suppose I would rather it was you. What then?”

“This,” said George thickly, and kissed her hard.

For a moment she was quiet in his arms. Then she pulled away.

“We can’t do this. I won’t go back on Hilary. Not like this. At least not till I can talk to him—try to explain—”

“You don’t have to,” said Hilary.

“You’ve a right to get on with your own life, Alice,” George reminded her. “And you belong to me.”

“It’s not as simple as that.”

“Maybe not for Hilary. He always does everything the longest way round!”

“Not this time,” said Hilary. “You win, George. I lose. Get on with it.”

Alice drew back, looking up at George with troubled eyes. His kiss had left her pulses pounding, she liked the desperate clasp of his arms round her, she liked being wanted so much. Thirty was looming over Alice, and her mother had begun to hint that if she wanted the right sort of marriage, with children and a place of her own, she had better make up her mind soon. She did want all those things—badly. It was flattering to her hungry feminine ego to have a man like George turn so recklessly impatient after dangling so long. It was stirring to feel one’s power as a woman like this, and to know that one’s looks weren’t going off, at least not yet, and that one had only to say the word, for a very decent sort of wedding. And one could be proud of George, he had enough money, he was very masculine in a showy sort of way—and he wanted her. That was the most exciting part. He wasn’t being very subtle about it, perhaps, but he would take her tomorrow if he could get her.

“You’re not behaving very well about this, George,” she began uncertainly, feeling her way towards surrender.

“I’m tired of behaving well,” he said brutally. “There’s not much in it.”

“I ought to resent your going for me like this—” She turned from him with a sigh.