They were sitting very close to one another and did not move as Philip and Sally passed.
"I wonder who that was," said Sally.
"They looked happy enough, didn't they?"
"I expect they took us for lovers too."
They saw the light of the cottage in front of them, and in a minute went into the little shop.
The glare dazzled them for a moment.
"You are late," said Mrs. Black. "I was just going to shut up." She looked at the clock. "Getting on for nine."
Sally asked for her half pound of tea (Mrs. Athelny could never bring herself to buy more than half a pound at a time), and they set off up the road again.
Now and then some beast of the night made a short, sharp sound, but it seemed only to make the silence more marked.
"I believe if you stood still you could hear the sea," said Sally.
They strained their ears, and their fancy presented them with a faint sound of little waves lapping up against the shingle.
When they passed the stile again the lovers were still there, but now they were not speaking; they were in one another's arms, and the man's lips were pressed against the girl's.
"They seem busy," said Sally.
They turned a corner, and a breath of warm wind beat for a moment against their faces.
The earth gave forth its freshness.
There was something strange in the tremulous night, and something, you knew not what, seemed to be waiting; the silence was on a sudden pregnant with meaning.
Philip had a queer feeling in his heart, it seemed very full, it seemed to melt (the hackneyed phrases expressed precisely the curious sensation), he felt happy and anxious and expectant.
To his memory came back those lines in which Jessica and Lorenzo murmur melodious words to one another, capping each other's utterance; but passion shines bright and clear through the conceits that amuse them.
He did not know what there was in the air that made his senses so strangely alert; it seemed to him that he was pure soul to enjoy the scents and the sounds and the savours of the earth.
He had never felt such an exquisite capacity for beauty.
He was afraid that Sally by speaking would break the spell, but she said never a word, and he wanted to hear the sound of her voice. Its low richness was the voice of the country night itself.
They arrived at the field through which she had to walk to get back to the huts.
Philip went in to hold the gate open for her.
"Well, here I think I'll say good-night."
"Thank you for coming all that way with me."
She gave him her hand, and as he took it, he said:
"If you were very nice you'd kiss me good-night like the rest of the family."
"I don't mind," she said.
Philip had spoken in jest.
He merely wanted to kiss her, because he was happy and he liked her and the night was so lovely.
"Good-night then," he said, with a little laugh, drawing her towards him.
She gave him her lips; they were warm and full and soft; he lingered a little, they were like a flower; then, he knew not how, without meaning it, he flung his arms round her.
She yielded quite silently.
Her body was firm and strong.
He felt her heart beat against his.
Then he lost his head.
His senses overwhelmed him like a flood of rushing waters.
He drew her into the darker shadow of the hedge.
CXX
Philip slept like a log and awoke with a start to find Harold tickling his face with a feather.
There was a shout of delight when he opened his eyes.
He was drunken with sleep.
"Come on, lazybones," said Jane. "Sally says she won't wait for you unless you hurry up."
Then he remembered what had happened.
His heart sank, and, half out of bed already, he stopped; he did not know how he was going to face her; he was overwhelmed with a sudden rush of self-reproach, and bitterly, bitterly, he regretted what he had done.
What would she say to him that morning?
He dreaded meeting her, and he asked himself how he could have been such a fool.
But the children gave him no time; Edward took his bathing-drawers and his towel, Athelstan tore the bed-clothes away; and in three minutes they all clattered down into the road.
Sally gave him a smile.
It was as sweet and innocent as it had ever been.