look at him: she was too conscious of the others behind them, who seemed as massively attentive as an audience in a theatre. Then in a wave of annoyance, Surely I have a right to look where I want? She did so. She could see the confidential tilt of his eyebrow so plainly, she knew he was hers for the taking. Nothing but themselves could stand between them.
"How queer: that's just what I was thinking," she told the eyebrow.
"Oh, do you believe in telepathy?" chirped Ruth. "Ben sometimes knows exactly what I'm thinking without my saying a word."
It can't happen often, George thought.
"What were you laughing at?" he found time to ask her, as the others were descending from the car.
"I was just thinking, there's not much danger of my meeting God, because I'm not pure in heart."
"Oh, I shall be perfectly comfortable anywhere," she said.
The single swathe of sunshine carved the hall, dividing it into two dusks as the word Now divides one's mind. All, all unchanged: the series of hemispherical bronze gongs at the dining-room
