“你倒非常了解。”她冷冷地回答。

    “我知道你自以为很了不起，而在厂里干活，你始终蒙受奇耻大辱。”

    他怒气冲冲，蛮横鲁莽。她只是不屑一顾地转身离去。他吹着口哨 走回车间，去跟希尔达打情骂俏。

    事后，他们心自问？

    “我干吗对克莱拉这样无礼？”他对自己感到恼火，同时，心里又有几分高兴。“她活该，谁叫她摆臭架子。”他气乎乎地自言自语。

    下午他又下楼去了，心里像压了块石头，想请克莱拉吃巧克力，以此减轻心头的重负。

    “来一块？”他说，“我买了好些，给自己解馋。”

    她真接受了，这使他如释重负。他坐在她的机器旁的工作台上，手指上缠着一络丝。她喜欢他，因为 他动作敏捷，简直像一只幼兽。他一边心里琢磨，一边晃动着两腿，巧克力放在工作台上。她身子伏在机器上，有节奏地摇着织机，然后弯下腰看看吊下的袜子，袜子下面附着砣子。他望着她优美的拱身背影和拖在地上的围裙带。

    “你好像总是，”他说，“在等待什么，无论我看你做什么，你都不是真正在做，你在等待——就像珀涅罗珀织布时那样。”他情不自禁地开了句玩笑，“我就叫你珀涅罗珀吧。”他说。

    “那有什么区别吗？”她说着，仔细挑开一针。

    “只要我高兴，无论什么都没关系。嗨，我说，你好像忘了我是你的上司，我刚刚 想起来。”

    “这话什么意思？”她冷冷地问。

    “就是我有权来管你。”

    “你对我有什么可挑剔的吗？”

    “嗨，我说，你不要这样讨厌好不好？”他生气地说。

    “我不知道怎样才不会使你讨厌。”她说着继续干她的活。

    “我想要你对我客气些、尊重些。”

    “也许要称你‘先生’吧？”她平静地问道。

    “对，要称我‘先生’，我十分愿意听。”

    “那我希望你上楼去，先生。”

    他闭上嘴，皱着眉头。忽然他一下子跳下工作台。

    “你对任何人都趾高气扬的。”他说。

    说着他走到其他女工那儿去了。他觉得自己火气太大了。实际上，他隐隐地怀疑自己是在卖弄。如果他是在卖弄，那就要卖弄一番。克莱拉听到他在隔壁房间里与女工们说笑，她恨他这么笑。

    傍晚，他等女工们都走了，就在车间里转了一圈。他看见巧克力原封不动地搁在克莱拉的机器前。他也照原样留着它不动。第二天早上，巧克力还在，克莱拉在干活。后来，外号叫小猫咪的黑里俏姑娘名妮，高声叫他：

    “嗨，你没给大家带巧克力吗？”

    “对不起，小猫咪，”他答道，“我本想请客，可我忘带了。”

    “我想也是。”她回答。

    “下午我给你们带些。乱扔着的巧克力你总不见得想要吧？”

    “噢，我倒不大挑剔。”小猫咪微笑着。

    “哦，不行，”他说，“那些糖上全是灰尘。”

    他往克莱拉的工作台走去。

    “对不起，我把这些糖到处乱扔。” 他说。

    她涨红了脸。他把巧克力一古脑抓在手里。

    “现在都脏了，”他说，“你早该吃了，我不知道你干吗不吃。我本想让你吃了的。”

    他把巧克力从窗口扔 到院子里，然后瞟了她一眼。她不由得避开了他的眼神。

    下午，他另带了一盒。

    “你想吃点吗？”他说，他先把糖递给克莱拉，“这是新买的。”

    她拿了一块，搁在工作台上。

    “哦，多拿几块——讨个吉利。”他说。

    她又拿了两块，还是放在工作台上。于是她手忙脚乱地干起活来。他一直走到车间那头。

    “给你，小猫咪。”他说。“别贪吃啊！”

    “全是给她的？”其他女工一哄而上，大叫道。

    “当然，不是。”他说。

    女工们吵吵嚷嚷地围成一圈，小猫咪从人堆里脱身出来。

    “快过来！”她大叫，“我可以先抓，对吗？保罗。”

    “最好和她们一块儿。”他说着就走了。

    “你真好。”姑娘们叫道。

    “不就十便士吗。”他答道。

    他一声不哼地走过克莱拉身边。她觉得如果碰碰这三块奶油巧克力，准会烫她的手，需要她鼓足勇气把巧克力装进口袋里。

    姑娘们都既爱他，又怕他。他高兴的时候非常和气，可是如果发起火来，十分冷酷，简直不把她们放在眼里，至多当她们是绕丝的简管似的。要是她们再敢涎着脸，他就沉静地说：“请接着干各自的活去，”说完就站在一边监督。

    他二十三岁生日那天，家里乱糟糟的。亚瑟正准备结婚。母亲身体也不好，他父亲上了年纪，因为事故跛着腿，只能干些零碎的苦差使。米丽亚姆是他心中永远的创伤。他觉得自己欠她很多，但是又不能把自己给她。另外，他还要养家糊口。他左右为难，过生日并不使他感到高兴，反而倍感难受。

    他八点钟就去上班，大多数工人还没 到。女工们要等八点半才到。他正换衣服时，听到背后有人说，“保罗，保罗，我要找你。”

    原 来是驼背的芬妮，正站在楼梯最高一阶上。神色神秘莫测。保罗吃惊地 看着她。

    “我要找你。”她说

    他站着发愣。“来，”她哄着说，“在你还没开始整理信件之前来一下。”

    他走下六七级楼梯到了她那间干燥、狭窄的成品间。芬妮走在前头，她的黑色紧身胸衣很短——腋下就是腰身——黑绿两色的开司米裙子看上去挺长的。她迈着大步走在这个年轻人前面，相比之下，就更显得他体形优美。她走到窄窄的车间尽头自己的座位边，那儿的窗户正对着烟囱管。保罗 看着她瘦瘦的手和又干瘪又通红的手腕，她不断地用手激动地揉着铺在工作台上的白围裙。她犹豫了。

    “你以为我们忘记你了？”她责怪地问。

    “怎么啦？”他问，自己把自己的生日倒给忘了。

    “‘怎么啦？’她说，“‘怎么啦？’你瞧这个！”她指了指日历，他看到二十一日的黑体字周围有许多个黑铅笔划的小十字。

    “噢，给我庆贺生日的亲吻啊。”他大笑道，“你怎么知道的？”

    “是啊，你想知道，对吗？”芬妮喜不自胜地取笑道，“大伙儿每人送你一个小十字——除了克莱拉女士——也有送你两个的，可是我不告诉你我划了多少个。”

    “噢，我知道，你很多情。”他说。

    “那你就错了！”她十分气愤地大叫道，“我从来不会这么温柔。”她以有力的女低音反驳道。

    “你总是装做铁石心肠的轻佻女子，”他大笑道，“可你知道，你很多的——。”

    “我倒愿意被说成多情，也不愿意被叫做冻肉。”芬妮脱口而出。保罗知道她指的是克莱拉，不觉笑了。

    “你谈到我也这么粗鲁吗？”他大 笑。

    “不，我的宝贝儿，”这位三十九岁驼背女人极其温柔地回答，“没有，我的宝贝儿，因为你并没有自视为大理石雕像而 把我们视为粪土。我和你一样的好，是吗？保罗？”这个问题使她非常愉快。

    “唉，咱们谁也不比谁强呀，不是吗？”他回答。

    “但是， 我和你一样好。对吗，保罗？”她大胆地纠缠着问。

    “当然啦，要论心肠好坏，你可比我好。”

    她有些害怕保罗的好言软语会使她乐得歇斯底里发作。

    “我原想我该比大家早到这儿——大家可别说我心眼多！现在闭上眼睛——”她说。

    “张开嘴巴，看看上帝赐给你什么。”他接口说，真的张开了嘴，还以为人家会给他一块巧克力呢。他听到围裙窸窸窣窣地响，还听见金属轻轻磕碰的声音。“我可要 看啦。”他说。

    他睁开眼睛，芬妮长脸涨得通红，蓝眼睛，奕奕发光，正凝视着他。原来他前面的工作台上正放着一小捆颜料管。 他脸色发白了。

    “不行，芬妮。”他立即 说。

    “这是大伙儿送的。”她赶紧说。

    “不行，可是……”

    “颜料是不是买得不合用啊？”她问道，喜滋滋地颤着身子。

    “天啊！这是最好的货色。”

    “可是不是买得合用啊？”她大叫。

    “我就是发财时，也不敢把它们列入短短的采购单上。”他咬咬嘴唇。

    芬妮激动得不能自制。她一定得岔开这个话题。

    “她们为这事挖空心思，除了希巴女王之外，大家都凑了份子。”

    希巴女王指的是克莱拉。

    “她不肯凑份子？”保罗问道。

    “她没得到这个机会，我们根本没告诉她，我们不 想让她打扰这出戏。我们不要她加入。”

    保罗朝这女人大笑，心里感动极了。最后，他要走了。她离他非常近，突然，她张开双臂搂住他的脖子，热烈的亲吻他。

    “今天我可以 给你个吻，”她赔着小心说，“你脸色这么白，真让我心疼。”

    保罗吻了她就离开了。她的双臂瘦得可怜，他也觉得心疼。

    那天午饭时，他跑下楼去洗手，遇到了克莱拉。

    “你竟在这儿吃饭。”他大声说，她可是非同寻常。

    “是啊，我好像用一个旧外科手术器械托盘吃的饭，现在我必须出去走走，要不然就会感到满口是印度橡胶般的臭味。”

    她说着却不动身。他立即领会到她的意思。

    “你要去哪儿？”他问。

    他们一起去了城堡，她出门穿得很朴素，几乎近于难看。在屋里她总是十分漂亮。她犹豫不决地跟保罗并肩走着，一会儿低着头，一会儿把脸转过去。由于衣着邋遢，神情不振，她逊色多了。他几乎认不出她那隐藏着无限精力的健壮形体了。她怕抛头露面，故意弯腰弓背，缩着身子，显得过于卑微。

    城堡的庭院苍翠欲滴。爬上陡峭的斜坡，他笑声琅琅，口若悬河。可是她却闭口不言，好象在深思着什么。若要爬 到高踞在悬崖顶上的方堡里去，时间已经 来不及了，他们就倚着峭壁边的矮墙，俯视悬崖下的公园。在他们脚下，沙岩的鸽巢里，鸽子在梳理羽毛，轻声啼叫着。悬崖脚下的林荫道尽头，幼小的树苗端立在树荫中，还有小小的行人煞有介事似的行色匆匆，简直令人发笑。

    “看上去好像可以把这些人当作小蝌蚪一样舀起一 把似的。”他说。

    她大笑着回答：

    “是啊，没有必要隔得老远来看清自己的力量，树木可高大得多了。”

    “只不过是自命不凡罢了。”他说。

     她挖苦地笑笑。

    林荫道外边，两条细长的铁轨伸展而去。铁轨边上密密麻麻地堆满了一小堆一小堆的木材，冒烟的玩具般大小的火车在奔跑。运河象条银带似的任意贯穿在黑土堆问。远处，河岸平地上密密的全是人家，看上去像黑乎乎的毒草，鳞次栉比，密密层层，一直延伸下去，直到曲折贯流旷野的那条波光粼粼的大河为止，不时地被更高一些的树木阻断。河对面的陡岸峭壁也相对地显得矮小多了。大片旷野给树木覆盖得郁郁葱葱，麦田隐隐发亮，旷野无边无际，一直延至青山耸立的虚无缥缈的天际。

    “ 想起城镇发展得还不快，真令人高兴。”道伍斯太太说，“现在还只是田野上的一小块癫疮疤。”

    “一小块癞疮疤。”保罗说。

    她打了个寒噤。她讨厌这个小镇，温怒地望着对面那一大片与她无缘的旷野，那张冷漠的脸，带着敌意，使保罗不由得想起一个怨气满腹、抱憾终身的天使。

    “可是这个镇不错吗！”他说，“不过是临时的。这是我们走上确实可行的道路之前粗略的权宜之计，等将来我们 有了好主意再说。这镇会好起来的。”

    岩洞里，灌木丛里的鸽子安逸地咕咕叫着。左面，圣玛丽亚大教堂高耸入云，同城堡比邻，屹立在那些破砖烂瓦之上——道伍斯太太眺望这旷野景色时，不由得愉快地笑了。

    “我感觉好些了。”她说。

    “谢谢你，”他答道，“不胜荣幸！”

    “噢，我的小弟弟！”她大 笑。

    “嗯，这就是你把右手给人的东西，用左手抢了回去，绝对没错。”他说。

    她满有兴致地对 他笑。

    “可是你刚才怎么啦？”他问，“我知道你正在想些特别的事情。我能从你脸上看出来。”

    “我想我不会告诉你。”她说。

    “好吧，那就别说了。”他回答。

    她红着脸，咬了咬嘴唇。

    “不是，”她说，“是那些女工。”

    “她们怎么啦？”保罗问道。

    “她们有件事已经筹划了一星期了。今天她们似乎特别来劲儿。个个都一样，故意保守秘密来奚落我。”

    “真的？”他关心地问。

    “ 我本不在乎，”她用气愤激昂的语气继续说，“如果她们不是拿这个——她们的秘密故意在我当面卖弄的话。”

    “真是妇人之见。”他说。

    “那种得意洋洋的神气真可恨。”她激愤地说。

    保罗一声不吭。他知道女工们为什么得意，他很抱歉自己成了新纠纷的祸根。

    "You know me very well," she replied coldly.
　　"I know you think you're terrific great shakes, and that youlive under the eternal insult of working in a factory."
　　He was very angry and very rude. She merely tumed away fromhim in disdain. He walked whistling down the room, flirted andlaughed with Hilda.
　　Later on he said to himself:
　　"What was I so impudent to Clara for?" He was rather annoyedwith himself, at the same time glad. "Serve her right; she stinkswith silent pride," he said to himself angrily.
　　In the afternoon he came down. There was a certain weighton his heart which he wanted to remove. He thought to do itby offering her chocolates.
　　"Have one?" he said. "I bought a handful to sweeten me up."
　　To his great relief, she accepted. He sat on the work-benchbeside her machine, twisting a piece of silk round his finger. She loved him for his quick, unexpected movements, like a young animal. His feet swung as he pondered. The sweets lay strewn on the bench. She bent over her machine, grinding rhythmically, then stoopingto see the stocking that hung beneath, pulled down by the weight. He watched the handsome crouching of her back, and the apron-stringscurling on the floor.
　　"There is always about you," he said, "a sort of waiting. Whatever I see you doing, you're not really there: you arewaiting--like Penelope when she did her weaving." He could not helpa spurt of wickedness. "I'll call you Penelope," he said.
　　"Would it make any difference?" she said, carefully removingone of her needles.
　　"That doesn't matter, so long as it pleases me. Here, I say,you seem to forget I'm your boss. It just occurs to me."
　　"And what does that mean?" she asked coolly.
　　"It means I've got a right to boss you."
　　"Is there anything you want to complain about?"
　　"Oh, I say, you needn't be nasty," he said angrily.
　　"I don't know what you want," she said, continuing her task.
　　"I want you to treat me nicely and respectfully."
　　"Call you 'sir', perhaps?" she asked quietly.
　　"Yes, call me 'sir'. I should love it."
　　"Then I wish you would go upstairs, sir."
　　His mouth closed, and a frown came on his face. He jumpedsuddenly down.
　　"You're too blessed superior for anything," he said.
　　And he went away to the other girls. He felt he was beingangrier than he had any need to be. In fact, he doubted slightlythat he was showing off. But if he were, then he would. Clara heardhim laughing, in a way she hated, with the girls down the next room.
　　When at evening he went through the department afterthe girls had gone, he saw his chocolates lying untouchedin front of Clara's machine. He left them. In the morningthey were still there, and Clara was at work. Later on Minnie,a little brunette they called Pussy, called to him:
　　"Hey, haven't you got a chocolate for anybody?"
　　"Sorry, Pussy," he replied. "I meant to have offered them;then I went and forgot 'em."
　　"I think you did," she answered.
　　"I'll bring you some this afternoon. You don't want themafter they've been lying about, do you?"
　　"Oh, I'm not particular," smiled Pussy.
　　"Oh no," he said. "They'll be dusty."
　　He went up to Clara's bench.
　　"Sorry I left these things littering about," he said.
　　She flushed scarlet. He gathered them together in his fist.
　　"They'll be dirty now," he said. "You should have taken them. I wonder why you didn't. I meant to have told you I wanted you to."
　　He flung them out of the window into the yard below. He just glanced at her. She winced from his eyes.
　　In the afternoon he brought another packet.
　　"Will you take some?" he said, offering them first to Clara. "These are fresh."
　　She accepted one, and put it on to the bench.
　　"Oh, take several--for luck," he said.
　　She took a couple more, and put them on the bench also. Then she turned in confusion to her work. He went on up the room.
　　"Here you are, Pussy," he said. "Don't be greedy!"
　　"Are they all for her?" cried the others, rushing up.
　　"Of course they're not," he said.
　　The girls clamoured round. Pussy drew back from her mates.
　　"Come out!" she cried. "I can have first pick, can't I, Paul?"
　　"Be nice with 'em," he said, and went away.
　　"You ARE a dear," the girls cried.
　　"Tenpence," he answered.
　　He went past Clara without speaking. She felt the threechocolate creams would burn her if she touched them. It neededall her courage to slip them into the pocket of her apron.
　　The girls loved him and were afraid of him. He was so nicewhile he was nice, but if he were offended, so distant, treating themas if they scarcely existed, or not more than the bobbins of thread. And then, if they were impudent, he said quietly: "Do you mindgoing on with your work," and stood and watched.
　　When he celebrated his twenty-third birthday, the house wasin trouble. Arthur was just going to be married. His mother wasnot well. His father, getting an old man, and lame from his accidents,was given a paltry, poor job. Miriam was an eternal reproach. He felt he owed himself to her, yet could not give himself. The house,moreover, needed his support. He was pulled in all directions. He was not glad it was his birthday. It made him bitter.
　　He got to work at eight o'clock. Most of the clerks had notturned up. The girls were not due till 8.30. As he was changinghis coat, he heard a voice behind him say:
　　"Paul, Paul, I want you."
　　It was Fanny, the hunchback, standing at the top of her stairs,her face radiant with a secret. Paul looked at her in astonishment.
　　"I want you," she said.
　　He stood, at a loss.
　　"Come on," she coaxed. "Come before you begin on the letters."
　　He went down the half-dozen steps into her dry, narrow,"finishing-off" room. Fanny walked before him: her black bodice wasshort--the waist was under her armpits--and her green-black cashmere skirtseemed very long, as she strode with big strides before the young man,himself so graceful. She went to her seat at the narrow end of the room,where the window opened on to chimney-pots. Paul watched her thinhands and her flat red wrists as she excitedly twitched her whiteapron, which was spread on the bench in front of her. She hesitated.
　　"You didn't think we'd forgot you?" she asked, reproachful.
　　"Why?" he asked. He had forgotten his birthday himself.
　　"'Why,' he says! 'Why!' Why, look here!" She pointedto the calendar, and he saw, surrounding the big black number"21", hundreds of little crosses in black-lead.
　　"Oh, kisses for my birthday," he laughed. "How did you know?"
　　"Yes, you want to know, don't you?" Fanny mocked, hugely delighted. "There's one from everybody--except Lady Clara--and two from some. But I shan't tell you how many I put."
　　"Oh, I know, you're spooney," he said.
　　"There you ARE mistaken!" she cried, indignant. "I couldnever be so soft." Her voice was strong and contralto.
　　"You always pretend to be such a hard-hearted hussy," he laughed. "And you know you're as sentimental---"
　　"I'd rather be called sentimental than frozen meat,"Fanny blurted. Paul knew she referred to Clara, and he smiled.
　　"Do you say such nasty things about me?" he laughed.
　　"No, my duck," the hunchback woman answered, lavishly tender. She was thirty-nine. "No, my duck, because you don't think yourselfa fine figure in marble and us nothing but dirt. I'm as good as you,aren't I, Paul?" and the question delighted her.
　　"Why, we're not better than one another, are we?" he replied.
　　"But I'm as good as you, aren't I, Paul?" she persisted daringly.
　　"Of course you are. If it comes to goodness, you're better."
　　She was rather afraid of the situation. She might get hysterical.
　　"I thought I'd get here before the others--won't they say I'm deep! Now shut your eyes---" she said.
　　"And open your mouth, and see what God sends you," he continued,suiting action to words, and expecting a piece of chocolate. He heard the rustle of the apron, and a faint clink of metal. "I'm going to look," he said.
　　He opened his eyes. Fanny, her long cheeks flushed,her blue eyes shining, was gazing at him. There was a littlebundle of paint-tubes on the bench before him. He turned pale.
　　"No, Fanny," he said quickly.
　　"From us all," she answered hastily.
　　"No, but---"
　　"Are they the right sort?" she asked, rocking herself with delight.
　　"Jove! they're the best in the catalogue."
　　"But they're the right sorts?" she cried.
　　"They're off the little list I'd made to get when my shipcame in." He bit his lip.
　　Fanny was overcome with emotion. She must turn the conversation.
　　"They was all on thorns to do it; they all paid their shares,all except the Queen of Sheba."
　　The Queen of Sheba was Clara.
　　"And wouldn't she join?" Paul asked.
　　"She didn't get the chance; we never told her; we wasn't goingto have HER bossing THIS show. We didn't WANT her to join."
　　Paul laughed at the woman. He was much moved. At last hemust go. She was very close to him. Suddenly she flung her armsround his neck and kissed him vehemently.
　　"I can give you a kiss to-day," she said apologetically. "You've looked so white, it's made my heart ache."
　　Paul kissed her, and left her. Her arms were so pitifullythin that his heart ached also.
　　That day he met Clara as he ran downstairs to wash his handsat dinner-time.
　　"You have stayed to dinner!" he exclaimed. It was unusualfor her.
　　"Yes; and I seem to have dined on old surgical-appliance stock. I MUST go out now, or I shall feel stale india-rubber right through."
　　She lingered. He instantly caught at her wish.
　　"You are going anywhere?" he asked.
　　They went together up to the Castle. Outdoors she dressedvery plainly, down to ugliness; indoors she always looked nice. She walked with hesitating steps alongside Paul, bowing and turningaway from him. Dowdy in dress, and drooping, she showed togreat disadvantage. He could scarcely recognise her strong form,that seemed to slumber with power. She appeared almost insignificant,drowning her stature in her stoop, as she shrank from the public gaze.
　　The Castle grounds were very green and fresh. Climbing theprecipitous ascent, he laughed and chattered, but she was silent,seeming to brood over something. There was scarcely time to goinside the squat, square building that crowns the bluff of rock. They leaned upon the wall where the cliff runs sheer down to the Park. Below them, in their holes in the sandstone, pigeons preenedthemselves and cooed softly. Away down upon the boulevard atthe foot of the rock, tiny trees stood in their own pools of shadow,and tiny people went scurrying about in almost ludicrous importance.
　　"You feel as if you could scoop up the folk like tadpoles,and have a handful of them," he said.
　　She laughed, answering:
　　"Yes; it is not necessary to get far off in order to seeus proportionately. The trees are much more significant."
　　"Bulk only," he said.
　　She laughed cynically.
　　Away beyond the boulevard the thin stripes of the metalsshowed upon the railway-track, whose margin was crowded with littlestacks of timber, beside which smoking toy engines fussed. Then the silver string of the canal lay at random among theblack heaps. Beyond, the dwellings, very dense on the river flat,looked like black, poisonous herbage, in thick rows and crowded beds,stretching right away, broken now and then by taller plants,right to where the river glistened in a hieroglyph across the country. The steep scarp cliffs across the river looked puny. Great stretchesof country darkened with trees and faintly brightened with corn-land,spread towards the haze, where the hills rose blue beyond grey.
　　"It is comforting," said Mrs. Dawes, "to think the town goesno farther. It is only a LITTLE sore upon the country yet."
　　"A little scab," Paul said.
　　She shivered. She loathed the town. Looking drearily acrossat the country which was forbidden her, her impassive face, paleand hostile, she reminded Paul of one of the bitter, remorseful angels.
　　"But the town's all right," he said; "it's only temporary. This is the crude, clumsy make-shift we've practised on, till we findout what the idea is. The town will come all right."
　　The pigeons in the pockets of rock, among the perched bushes,cooed comfortably. To the left the large church of St. Mary roseinto space, to keep close company with the Castle, above the heapedrubble of the town. Mrs. Dawes smiled brightly as she looked acrossthe country.
　　"I feel better," she said.
　　"Thank you," he replied. "Great compliment!"
　　"Oh, my brother!" she laughed.
　　"H'm! that's snatching back with the left hand what you gavewith the right, and no mistake," he said.
　　She laughed in amusement at him.
　　"But what was the matter with you?" he asked. "I know youwere brooding something special. I can see the stamp of iton your face yet."
　　"I think I will not tell you," she said.
　　"All right, hug it," he answered.
　　She flushed and bit her lip.
　　"No," she said, "it was the girls."
　　"What about 'em?" Paul asked.
　　"They have been plotting something for a week now, and to-daythey seem particularly full of it. All alike; they insult mewith their secrecy."
　　"Do they?" he asked in concern.
　　"I should not mind," she went on, in the metallic, angry tone,"if they did not thrust it into my face--the fact that they havea secret."
　　"Just like women," said he.
　　"It is hateful, their mean gloating," she said intensely.
　　Paul was silent. He knew what the girls gloated over. He was sorry to be the cause of this new dissension.