The Partnership Read Online Free PDF Page B

argumentative tone. “Why won’t you? Eh? Do you think I’d run away with you? Do you?” He gave a soft snigger of pleasure at the thought.
    â€œI’m sure you wouldn’t,” said Lydia with a scornful decision which she by no means felt. The lad’s soft insistent voice, badgering her with preposterous questions, was introducing her tosensations which were novel to her. She was new to the technique of this love-making of the streets, and it shook her more than she could have imagined possible.
    â€œWhy do you think I shouldn’t?” teased the soldier in reply to her last remark. “You’re very certain about it, aren’t you? Why do you think I shouldn’t run off with you? You must have some reason for saying that, you know.”
    â€œPlease go away,” said the hapless Lydia firmly.
    â€œOh, oh!” protested the soldier on a long-drawn-out note of plaintive amusement. “Don’t say that, miss. Why won’t you come for a walk with me? What harm is there in a walk?
I
don’t see why you shouldn’t come. Why won’t you come?”
    â€œI don’t do that kind of thing,” explained Lydia with as much dignity as she could command.
    â€œOh, well, of course,” agreed the soldier with a large reassuring gesture. “Neither do I. But just for once—” He broke off abruptly and gazed into the darkness of an unpaved back lane which opened out beyond her. Lydia, following the direction of his glance, thought she saw a form vaguely sketched against some palings there; she strained her eyes to pierce the darkness, but the figure, if it was one, had gone.
    â€œWell,” said her companion in a changed tone, “are you quite sure you won’t come for a walk with me?”
    â€œQuite,” replied Lydia emphatically, summoning all her moral force to her support.
    â€œThen good night, and good luck to you,” returned the soldier with courteous finality. He sketched a salute, turned on his heel, and vanished abruptly down the lane.
    Lydia, thus left alone, was, of course, intensely relieved—as she told herself—by his departure; but somehow, too, a feeling of disappointment was in the air. Her heart had beaten pleasurably fast during the last few moments. She reviewed the whole ridiculous episode with the superior smile which became a Tolefree Mellor; but somehow the lad’s caressing voice, the sparkle of his merry eyes beneath the lamps, his charming smile, the Celtic manner of his attack, did not strike unpleasantly upon her recollection. With her hand upon the gate of Foyle Tower, Lydia decided that she did not wish, yet, to pass its austere portals; there was beauty, now, in the flashing lights; poetry in the sea’s endless roll. She turned aside and made for a “shelter” of glass and wood which graced the front and gave upon the sea. When she was ensconced there in a windless corner, her conscience began to reproach her. Ought she not, most decidedly, to have withdrawn at once to the safety of Foyle Tower, after the recent disgraceful incident? Was she not inviting, by her presence there, a repetition of that incident? At this thought she started to her feet; and stood poised for flight, while obscure forces battled within her. If she should see himagain! What a terrible episode for the Reverend Charles Mellor’s daughter to be involved in! Yet at the same time she could not but admit, in a strong wave of feeling, that there was truth in that verse of Louise’s favourite poet—Louise’s passion for esoteric poetry was the theme of many affectionate jokes in Cromwell Place—which ran:
    Abstinence sows sand all over
The ruddy limbs and flaming hair,
But desire gratified
Plants fruits of life and beauty there.
    With a little sigh Lydia sank down again in her corner, and at that moment she saw the soldier again.
    He was not, however, alone; for by his side walked the