ramhamcameinitwasplain,eventotheyoungSwisswaiter,thattherewasabargainbetweenthem.Nickhitchedhisclothestogetherclumsilyranhisfingersthroughhishairsatdown,toanordeal,nervously.Shelookedathimandsetofflaughinglaughed—laughed—laughed.TheyoungSwisswaiter,standingwithcrossedlegsbythepillar,laughedtoo.
ThedooropenedincametheroarofRegentStreet,theroaroftraffic,impersonal,unpityingandsunshinegrainedwithdirt.TheSwisswaitermustseetothenewcomers.Bramhamliftedhisglass.
"He'slikeJacob,"saidFlorinda,lookingatthenewcomer.
"Thewayhestares."Shestoppedlaughing.
Jacob,leaningforward,drewaplanoftheParthenoninthedustinHydePark,anetworkofstrokesatleast,whichmayhavebeentheParthenon,oragainamathematicaldiagram.Andwhywasthepebblesoemphaticallygroundinatthecorner?ItwasnottocounthisnotesthathetookoutawadofpapersandreadalongflowingletterwhichSandrahadwrittentwodaysagoatMiltonDowerHousewithhisbookbeforeherandinhermindthememoryofsomethingsaidorattempted,somemomentinthedarkontheroadtotheAcropoliswhich(suchwashercreed)matteredforever.
"Heis,"shemused,"likethatmaninMoliere."
ShemeantAlceste.Shemeantthathewassevere.Shemeantthatshecoulddeceivehim.
"OrcouldInot?"shethought,puttingthepoemsofDonnebackinthebookcase."Jacob,"shewenton,goingtothewindowandlookingoverthespottedflower-bedsacrossthegrasswherethepiebaldcowsgrazedunderbeechtrees,"Jacobwouldbeshocked."
Theperambulatorwasgoingthroughthelittlegateintherailing.Shekissedherhanddirectedbythenurse,Jimmywavedhis.
"HE'Sasmallboy,"shesaid,thinkingofJacob.
Andyet—Alceste?
"Whatanuisanceyouare!"Jacobgrumbled,stretchingoutfirstonelegandthentheotherandfeelingineachtrouser-pocketforhischairticket.
"Iexpectthesheephaveeatenit,"hesaid."Whydoyoukeepsheep?"
"Sorrytodisturbyou,sir,"saidtheticket-collector,hishanddeepintheenormouspouchofpence.
"Well,Ihopeth