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would she have fled away； but that her fear was less than her
gladness。 She came to me slowly； no incomprehensible thing to me
now； but transparent as a pool； and so restful to look upon that
she was a bath to the eyes； like banks of moss。
Because I knew the maid； she was mine。 Every maid； I say； is for
him who can know her。 The others had but followed the glamour in
which she walked； but I had pierced it and found the woman。 I
could anticipate her every thought and gesture； I could have
flashed and rippled and mocked for her； and melted for her and
been dear disdain for her。 She would forget this and be suddenly
conscious of it as she began to speak； when she gave me a look
with a shy smile in it which meant that she knew I was already
waiting at the end of what she had to say。 I call this the blush
of the eye。 She had a look and a voice that were for me alone；
her very finger…tips were charged with caresses for me。 And I
loved even her naughtinesses； as when she stamped her foot at me；
which she could not do without also gnashing her teeth； like a
child trying to look fearsome。 How pretty was that gnashing of
her teeth！ All her tormentings of me turned suddenly into
sweetnesses； and who could torment like this exquisite fury；
wondering in sudden flame why she could give herself to anyone；
while I wondered only why she could give herself to me。 It may
be that I wondered over…much。 Perhaps that was why I lost her。
It was in the full of the moon that she was most restive； but I
brought her back； and at first she could have bit my hand； but
then she came willingly。 Never； I thought； shall she be wholly
tamed； but he who knows her will always be able to bring her
back。
I am not that man； for mystery of mysteries； I lost her。 I know
not how it was； though in the twilight of my life that then began
I groped for reasons until I wearied of myself； all I know is
that she had ceased to love me； I had won her love； but I could
not keep it。 The discovery came to me slowly； as if I were a
most dull…witted man； at first I knew only that I no longer
understood her as of old。 I found myself wondering what she had
meant by this and that； I did not see that when she began to
puzzle me she was already lost to me。 It was as if； unknowing； I
had strayed outside the magic circle。
When I did understand I tried to cheat myself into the belief
that there was no change； and the dear heart bleeding for me
assisted in that poor pretence。 She sought to glide to me with
swimming eyes as before； but it showed only that this caressing
movement was still within her compass； but never again for me。
With the hands she had pressed to her breast she touched mine；
but no longer could they convey the message。 The current was
broken； and soon we had to desist miserably from our pretences。
She could tell no more than I why she had ceased to love me； she
was scarcely less anxious than I that I should make her love me
again； and； as I have said； she waited with a wonderful tolerance
while I strove futilely to discover in what I was lacking and to
remedy it。 And when； at last； she had to leave me； it was with
compassionate cries and little backward flights。
The failure was mine alone； but I think I should not have been so
altered by it had I known what was the defect in me through which
I let her love escape。 This puzzle has done me more harm than
the loss of her。 Nevertheless； you must know （if I am to speak
honestly to you） that I do not repent me those dallyings in
enchanted fields。 It may not have been so always； for I remember
a black night when a poor lieutenant lay down in an oarless boat
and let it drift toward the weir。 But his distant moans do not
greatly pain me now； rather am I elated to find （as the waters
bring him nearer） that this boy is I； for it is something to know
that； once upon a time； a woman could draw blood from me as from
another。
I saw her again； years afterward； when she was a married woman
playing with her children。 She stamped her foot at a naughty
one； and I saw the gleam of her teeth as she gnashed them in the
dear pretty way I can't forget； and then a boy and girl； fighting
for her shoulders； brought the whole group joyously to the
ground。 She picked herself up in the old leisurely manner； lazily
active； and looked around her benignantly； like a cow： our dear
wild one safely tethered at last with a rope of children。 I
meant to make her my devoirs； but； as I stepped forward； the old
wound broke out afresh； and I had to turn away。 They were but a
few poor drops； which fell because I found that she was even a
little sweeter than I had thought。
X
Sporting Reflections
I have now told you （I presume） how I became whimsical； and I
fear it would please Mary not at all。 But speaking of her； and；
as the cat's light keeps me in a ruminating mood； suppose；
instead of returning Mary to her lover by means of the letter； I
had presented a certain clubman to her consideration？ Certainly
no such whimsical idea crossed my mind when I dropped the letter；
but between you and me and my night…socks； which have all this
time been airing by the fire because I am subject to cold feet； I
have sometimes toyed with it since。
Why did I not think of this in time？ Was it because I must ever
remain true to the unattainable she？
I am reminded of a passage in the life of a sweet lady； a friend
of mine； whose daughter was on the eve of marriage； when suddenly
her lover died。 It then became pitiful to watch that trembling
old face trying to point the way of courage to the young one。 In
time； however； there came another youth； as true； I dare say； as
the first； but not so well known to me； and I shrugged my
shoulders cynically to see my old friend once more a matchmaker。
She took him to her heart and boasted of him； like one made young
herself by the great event； she joyously dressed her pale
daughter in her bridal gown； and； with smiles upon her face； she
cast rice after the departing carriage。 But soon after it had
gone； I chanced upon her in her room； and she was on her knees in
tears before the spirit of the dead lover。 〃Forgive me；〃 she
besought him； 〃for I am old； and life is gray to friendless
girls。〃 The pardon she wanted was for pretending to her daughter
that women should act thus。
I am sure she felt herself soiled。
But men are of a coarser clay。 At least I am； and nearly twenty
years had elapsed； and here was I burdened under a load of
affection； like a sack of returned love…letters； with no lap into
which to dump them。
〃They were all written to another woman； ma'am； and yet I am in
hopes that you will find something in them about yourself。〃 It
would have sounded oddly to Mary； but life is gray to friendless
girls； and something might have come of it。
On the other hand； it would have brought her for ever out of the
wood of the little hut； and I had but to drop the letter to send
them both back there。 The easiness of it tempted me。
Besides； she would tire of me when I was really known to her。
They all do； you see。
And； after all； why should he lose his laugh because I had lost
my smile？
And then； again； the whole thing was merely a whimsical idea。
I dropped the letter； and shouldered my burden。
XI
The Runaway Perambulator
I sometimes met David in public places such as the Kensington
Gardens； where he lorded it surrounded by his suite and wearing
the blank face and glass eyes of all carriage…people。 On these
occasions I always stalked by； meditating on higher things；
though Mary seemed to think me very hardhearted； and Irene； who
had become his nurse （I forget how； but fear I had something to
do with it）； ran after me with messages； as； would I not call and
see him in his home at twelve o'clock； at which moment； it
seemed； he was at his best。
No； I would not。
〃He says tick…tack to the clock；〃 Irene said； trying to snare me。
〃Pooh！〃 said I。
〃Other little 'uns jest says 'tick…tick；'〃 she told me； with a
flush of pride。
〃I prefer 'tick…tick；'〃 I said； whereat she departed in dudgeon。
Had they had the sense to wheel him behind a tree and leave him；
I would have looked； but as they lacked it； I decided to wait
until he could walk； when it would be more easy to waylay him。
However； he was a cautious little gorbal who； after many threats
to rise； always seemed to come to the conclusion that he might do
worse than remain where he was； and when he had completed his
first year I lost patience with him。
〃When I was his age；〃 I said to Irene； 〃I was running about。〃 I
consulted them casually about this matter at the club； and they
had all been running about at a year old。
I made this nurse the following offer： If she would bring the
dilatory boy to my rooms and leave him ther