He broke off short as the door opened, and Maxim came into the room.
'Hullo,' he said, 'what's happening?
I didn't know you were here, Captain Searle?
Is anything the matter?'
I could not stand it any longer.
I went out of the room like the coward I was and shut the door behind me.
I had not even glanced at Maxim's face.
I had the vague impression that he looked tired, untidy, hatless.
I went and stood in the hall by the front door.
Jasper was drinking noisily from his bowl.
He wagged his tail when he saw me and went on drinking.
Then he loped towards me, and stood up, pawing at my dress.
I kissed the top of his head and went and sat on the terrace.
The moment of crisis had come, and I must face it.
My old fears, my diffidence, my shyness, my hopeless sense of inferiority, must be conquered now and thrust aside.
If I failed now I should fail for ever.
There would never be another chance.
I prayed for courage in a blind despairing way, and dug my nails into my hands.
I sat there for five minutes staring at the green lawns and the flower tubs on the terrace.
I heard the sound of a car starting up in the drive.
It must be Captain Searle.
He had broken his news to Maxim and had gone.
I got up from the terrace and went slowly through the hall to the library.
I kept turning over in my pockets the winkles that Ben had given me.
I clutched them tight in my hands.
Maxim was standing by the window.
His back was turned to me.
I waited by the door.
Still he did not turn round.
I took my hands out of my pockets and went and stood beside him.
I reached out for his hand and laid it against my cheek.
He did not say anything.
He went on standing there.
'I'm so sorry,' I whispered, 'so terribly, terribly sorry.'
He did not answer.
His hand was icy cold.
I kissed the back of it, and then the fingers, one by one.
'I don't want you to bear this alone,' I said. 'I want to share it with you.
I've grown up, Maxim, in twenty-four hours.
I'll never be a child again.'
He put his arm round me and pulled me to him very close.
My reserve was broken, and my shyness too.
I stood there with my face against his shoulder.
'You've forgiven me, haven't you?' I said.
He spoke to me at last.
'Forgiven you?' he said.
'What have I got to forgive you for?'
'Last night,' I said; 'you thought I did it on purpose.'
'Ah, that,' he said.
'I'd forgotten.