he waited for her to come, after an interval, into sight on the curve of the bridge. Then as the minutes elapsed without her doing so, he lounged, heavy and blank, up again to where he had found her. Manning, while his back was turned, had arrived with one of her aids to carry off the tea-things; and from a distance, planted on the lawn, he bent on these evolutions an attention unnaturally fixed. The women marched and countermarched, dismantling the table; he broodingly and vacantly watched them; then, as he lighted a fresh cigarette, he saw his mother come out of the house to give an eye to their work. She reached the spot and dropped a command or two; after which, joining him, she took in that her little company had dispersed.
"What has become of every one?"
Paul's replies were slow; but he gave her one now that was distinct. "After the talk on which I lately left you I should think you would know pretty well what had become of me."
She gave him a keen look; her face softened. "What on earth's the matter with you?"
He placidly smoked. "I've had my head punched."
