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           Andtheflameofstrengthwentdownhisbackandhisloins,revivinghim.Andshebentsuddenlyandkissedhishand.MeanwhilethebackofClifford’sheadwasheldsleekandmotionless,justinfrontofthem.

           Atthetopofthehilltheyrested,andConniewasgladtoletgo.Shehadhadfugitivedreamsoffriendshipbetweenthesetwomen:oneherhusband,theotherthefatherofherchild.Nowshesawthescreamingabsurdityofherdreams.Thetwomaleswereashostileasfireandwater.Theymutuallyexterminatedoneanother.Andsherealizedforthefirsttimewhataqueersubtlethinghateis.Forthefirsttime,shehadconsciouslyanddefinitelyhatedClifford,withvividhate:asifheoughttobeobliteratedfromthefaceoftheearth.Anditwasstrange,howfreeandfulloflifeitmadeherfeel,tohatehimandtoadmititfullytoherself.--’NowI’vehatedhim,Ishallneverbeabletogoonlivingwithhim,’camethethoughtintohermind.

           Onthelevelthekeepercouldpushthechairalone.Cliffordmadealittleconversationwithher,toshowhiscompletecomposure:aboutAuntEva,whowasatDieppe,andaboutSirMalcolm,whohadwrittentoaskwouldConniedrivewithhiminhissmallcar,toVenice,orwouldsheandHildagobytrain.

           ’I’dmuchrathergobytrain,’saidConnie.’Idon’tlikelongmotordrives,especiallywhenthere’sdust.ButIshallseewhatHildawants.’

           ’Shewillwanttodriveherowncar,andtakeyouwithher,’hesaid.

           ’Probably!--Imusthelpuphere.You’venoideahowheavythischairis.