had never tried to carry a woman, but on the cinema it always looked an easy piece of heroism.
"You couldn’t,” said Anne.
"Of course I can.” He felt larger and more protective than ever. "Put your arms round my neck," he ordered. She did so and, stooping, he picked her up under the knees and lifted her from the ground. Good heavens, what a weight! He took five staggering steps up the slope, then almost lost his equilibrium, and had to deposit his burden suddenly, with something of a bump.
Anne was shaking with laughter. "I said you couldn’t, my poor Denis."
"I can,” said Denis, without conviction. “I’ll try again.”
"It’s perfectly sweet of you to offer, but I’d rather walk, thanks." She laid her hand on his shoulder and, thus supported, began to limp slowly up the hill.
"My poor Denis!" she repeated, and laughed again. Humiliated, he was silent. It seemed incredible that, only two minutes ago, he should have been holding her in his embrace, kissing her. Incredible. She was helpless then, a child. Now she had regained all her
