It was natural to his emotional temperament to express itself so--through physical gesture.

But Nelly disliked the touch.
'I only meant'-- Farrell continued, anxiously--'that he would beg you not to anticipate trouble--not to go to meet it.' She summoned smiles, altering her position a little, and drawing a wrap round her.

The delicate arm was no longer within his reach.
And restlessly she began to talk of other things--the conscientious objectors of the morning--Zeppelins--a recruiting meeting at Ambleside.
Farrell had the impression of a wounded creature that could not bear to be touched; and it was something new to his prevailing sense of power in life, to be made to realise that he could do nothing.

His sympathy seemed to alienate her; and he felt much distressed and rebuffed.
* * * * * Meanwhile as the clouds cleared away from the September afternoon, Marsworth and Cicely were strolling along the Lake, and sparring as usual.
He had communicated to her his intention of leaving Carton within a week or so, and trying some fresh treatment in London.
'You're tired of us ?' she enquired, her head very much in air.
'Not at all.

But I think I might do a bit of work.' 'The doctors don't think so.' 'Ah, well--when a man's got to my stage, he must make experiments on his own.