He slid his arm round her waist.

Feeling the strong motion of her body under his arm as she walked, the tightness in his chest because of Miriam relaxed, and the hot blood bathed him.

He held her closer and closer.
Then: "You still keep on with Miriam," she said quietly.
"Only talk.

There never WAS a great deal more than talk between us," he said bitterly.
"Your mother doesn't care for her," said Clara.
"No, or I might have married her.

But it's all up really!" Suddenly his voice went passionate with hate.
"If I was with her now, we should be jawing about the 'Christian Mystery', or some such tack.