his hair down with both hands, pulled out the flaps of his jacket pockets.
Making between 500 and 600 pounds a year on a fruit farm in--of all places-
-Rhodesia. No capital. Not a penny coming to him. No chance of his
income increasing for at least four years. As for looks and all that sort
of thing, he was completely out of the running. He couldn't even boast of
top-hole health, for the East Africa business had knocked him out so
thoroughly that he'd had to take six months' leave. He was still fearfully
pale--worse even than usual this afternoon, he thought, bending forward and
peering into the mirror. Good heavens! What had happened? His hair
looked almost bright green. Dash it all, he hadn't green hair at all
events. That was a bit too steep. And then the green light trembled in
the glass; it was the shadow from the tree outside. Reggie turned away,
took out his cigarette case, but remembering how the mater hated him to
smoke in his bedroom, put it back again and drifted over to the chest of
drawers. No, he was dashed if he could think of one blessed thing in his
favour, while she...Ah!...He stopped dead, folded his arms, and leaned hard
against the chest of drawers.

And in spite of her position, her father's wealth, the fact that she was an
only child and far and away the most popular girl in the neighbourhood; in
spite of her beauty and her cleverness--cleverness!--it was a great deal
more than that, there was really nothing she couldn't do; he fully
believed, had it been necessary, she would have been a genius at anything--
in spite of the fact that her parents adored her, and she them, and they'd
as soon let her go all that way as...In spite of every single thing you
could think of, so terrific was his love that he couldn't help hoping.
Well, was it hope? Or was this queer, timid longing to have the chance of
looking after her, of making it his job to see that she had everything she
wanted, and that nothing came near her that wasn't perfect--just love? How
he loved her! He squeezed hard against the chest of drawers and murmured