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Updated: June 23, 2025
He nodded his head at the tables where a very miscellaneous collection of Europeans were now engaged in eating, in some cases in gnawing, the stringy foreign fowls. Hewet looked, and grew more out of temper than ever. Hirst looked too. His eyes fell upon Rachel, and he bowed to her. "I rather think Rachel's in love with me," he remarked, as his eyes returned to his plate.
"Now that young man is clever enough," she added, nodding at Hirst, who came past with Miss Allan on his arm. "He does not look strong," said Mrs. Thornbury. "His complexion is not good. Shall I tear it off?" she asked, for Rachel had stopped, conscious of a long strip trailing behind her. "I hope you are enjoying yourselves?" Hewet asked the ladies.
"North South East West," said Miss Allan, jerking her head slightly towards the points of the compass. Hewet, who had gone a little in front, looked up at his guests as if to justify himself for having brought them.
I daresay I was very silly, but one can't help liking people when one's sorry for them. I do like him most awfully " She paused. "So I gave him half a promise, and then, you see, there's Alfred Perrott." "Oh, Perrott," said Hewet. "We got to know each other on that picnic the other day," she continued.
"On the contrary," said Hirst with a touch of annoyance, "I consider myself a person of very strong passions." It was clear from the way he spoke that he meant it seriously; he spoke of course for the benefit of the ladies. "By the way, Hirst," said Hewet, after a pause, "I have a terrible confession to make.
Certainly, in the opinion of Hirst and Hewet, who lay back in long arm-chairs in the middle of the hall, with their coffee-cups beside them, and their cigarettes in their hands, the evening was unusually dull, the women unusually badly dressed, the men unusually fatuous. Moreover, when the mail had been distributed half an hour ago there were no letters for either of the two young men.
She took the letter back and went, for the messenger was waiting for her answer. The party which had been suggested a few nights ago in Mr. Hirst's bedroom had taken shape and was the source of great satisfaction to Mr. Hewet, who had seldom used his practical abilities, and was pleased to find them equal to the strain.
"My mother's a chronic invalid, and I'm always expecting to be told that I've got heart disease myself. Rheumatism always goes to the heart in the end." "For goodness' sake, Hirst," Hewet protested; "one might think you were an old cripple of eighty.
"I like you immensely," Hewet replied, speaking with the relief of a person who is unexpectedly given an opportunity of saying what he wants to say. He stopped moving the pebbles. "Mightn't we call each other Rachel and Terence?" he asked. "Terence," Rachel repeated. "Terence that's like the cry of an owl."
"And supposing my bubble could run into some one else's bubble " "And they both burst?" put in Hirst. "Then then then " pondered Hewet, as if to himself, "it would be an e-nor-mous world," he said, stretching his arms to their full width, as though even so they could hardly clasp the billowy universe, for when he was with Hirst he always felt unusually sanguine and vague.
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