discomfort and a feeling of resentment against Fate more than
against any individual, were the two that remained with me next
morning. Astonishment does not last. The fact of Audrey and myself
being under the same roof after all these years had ceased to
amaze me. It was a minor point, and my mind shelved it in order to
deal with the one thing that really mattered, the fact that she
had come back into my life just when I had definitely, as I
thought, put her out of it.

My resentment deepened. Fate had played me a wanton trick. Cynthia
trusted me. If I were weak, I should not be the only one to
suffer. And something told me that I should be weak. How could I
hope to be strong, tortured by the thousand memories which the
sight of her would bring back to me?

But I would fight, I told myself. I would not yield easily. I
promised that to my self-respect, and was rewarded with a certain
glow of excitement. I felt defiant. I wanted to test myself at
once.

My opportunity came after breakfast. She was standing on the
gravel in front of the house, almost, in fact, on the spot where
we had met the night before. She looked up as she heard my step,
and I saw that her chin had that determined tilt which, in the
days of our engagement, I had noticed often without attaching any
particular significance to it. Heavens, what a ghastly lump of
complacency I must have been in those days! A child, I thought, if
he were not wrapped up in the contemplation of his own magnificence,
could read its meaning.