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had to give up thought of finding them； but made the coachman turn
round and round again。 All day he drove about； far into the country；
and kept urging the driver to use greater speed。 He was in a strange
state of hurry and elation。 Finally； he dined at a little country
inn； and this gave the measure of his disturbancethe dinner was
atrocious。
Returning late in the evening he found a note written by Traquair。
〃Are you in your senses； man？〃 it asked； 〃we have no more time to
waste idling about here。 If you want to rejoin us； come on to
Danielli's Hotel； Venice。〃 Swithin chuckled when he read it； and
feeling frightfully tired； went to bed and slept like a log。
VI
Three weeks later he was still in Salzburg； no longer at the Goldene
Alp； but in rooms over a shop near the Boleskeys'。 He had spent a
small fortune in the purchase of flowers。 Margit would croon over
them； but Rozsi； with a sober 〃Many tanks！〃 as if they were her
right； would look long at herself in the glass； and pin one into her
hair。 Swithin ceased to wonder； he ceased to wonder at anything they
did。 One evening he found Boleskey deep in conversation with a pale；
dishevelled…looking person。
〃Our friend Mr。 ForsyteCount D。。。。；〃 said Boleskey。
Swithin experienced a faint； unavoidable emotion； but looking at the
Count's trousers； he thought： 'Doesn't look much like one！' And with
an ironic bow to the silent girls； he turned； and took his hat。 But
when he had reached the bottom of the dark stairs he heard footsteps。
Rozsi came running down； looked out at the door； and put her hands up
to her breast as if disappointed； suddenly with a quick glance round
she saw him。 Swithin caught her arm。 She slipped away； and her face
seemed to bubble with defiance or laughter； she ran up three steps；
stopped； looked at him across her shoulder； and fled on up the
stairs。 Swithin went out bewildered and annoyed。
'What was she going to say to me？' he kept thinking。 During these
three weeks he had asked himself all sorts of questions： whether he
were being made a fool of； whether she were in love with him； what he
was doing there； and sometimes at night； with all his candles burning
as if he wanted light； the breeze blowing on him through the window；
his cigar； half…smoked； in his hand； he sat； an hour or more； staring
at the wall。 'Enough of this！' he thought every morning。 Twice he
packed fullyonce he ordered his travelling carriage； but
countermanded it the following day。 What definitely he hoped；
intended； resolved； he could not have said。 He was always thinking
of Rozsi； he could not read the riddle in her faceshe held him in a
vice； notwithstanding that everything about her threatened the very
fetishes of his existence。 And Boleskey！ Whenever he looked at him
he thought； 'If he were only clean？' and mechanically fingered his
own well…tied cravatte。 To talk with the fellow； too； was like being
forced to look at things which had no place in the light of day。
Freedom； equality； self…sacrifice！
'Why can't he settle down at some business；' he thought； 'instead of
all this talk？' Boleskey's sudden diffidences； self…depreciation；
fits of despair； irritated him。 〃Morbid beggar！〃 he would mutter；
〃thank God I haven't a thin skin。〃 And proud too！ Extraordinary！
An impecunious fellow like that！ One evening； moreover； Boleskey had
returned home drunk。 Swithin had hustled him away into his bedroom；
helped him to undress； and stayed until he was asleep。 'Too much of
a good thing！' he thought； 'before his own daughters； too！' It was
after this that he ordered his travelling carriage。 The other
occasion on which he packed was one evening； when not only Boleskey；
but Rozsi herself had picked chicken bones with her fingers。
Often in the mornings he would go to the Mirabell Garden to smoke his
cigar； there； in stolid contemplation of the statuesrows of half…
heroic men carrying off half…distressful femaleshe would spend an
hour pleasantly； his hat tilted to keep the sun off his nose。 The
day after Rozsi had fled from him on the stairs； he came there as
usual。 It was a morning of blue sky and sunlight glowing on the old
prim garden； on its yew…trees； and serio…comic statues； and walls
covered with apricots and plums。 When Swithin approached his usual
seat； who should be sitting there but Rozsi
〃Good…morning；〃 he stammered； 〃you knew this was my seat then？〃
Rozsi looked at the ground。 〃Yes；〃 she answered。
Swithin felt bewildered。 〃Do you know；〃 he said； 〃you treat me very
funnily？〃
To his surprise Rozsi put her little soft hand down and touched his；
then； without a word； sprang up and rushed away。 It took him a
minute to recover。 There were people present； he did not like to
run； but overtook her on the bridge； and slipped her hand beneath his
arm。
〃You shouldn't have done that；〃 he said； 〃you shouldn't have run away
from me； you know。〃
Rozsi laughed。 Swithin withdrew his arm； a desire to shake her
seized him。 He walked some way before he said； 〃Will you have the
goodness to tell me what you came to that seat for？〃
Rozsi flashed a look at him。 〃To…morrow is the fete；〃 she answered。
Swithin muttered； 〃Is that all？〃
〃If you do not take us； we cannot go。〃
〃Suppose I refuse；〃 he said sullenly； 〃there are plenty of others。〃
Rozsi bent her head； scurrying along。 〃No；〃 she murmured； 〃if you do
not goI do not wish。〃
Swithin drew her hand back within his arm。 How round and soft it
was！ He tried to see her face。 When she was nearly home he said
goodbye； not wishing； for some dark reason； to be seen with her。 He
watched till she had disappeared； then slowly retraced his steps to
the Mirabell Garden。 When he came to where she had been sitting； he
slowly lighted his cigar； and for a long time after it was smoked out
remained there in the silent presence of the statues。
VII
A crowd of people wandered round the booths； and Swithin found
himself obliged to give the girls his arms。 'Like a little Cockney
clerk！' he thought。 His indignation passed unnoticed； they talked；
they laughed； each sight and sound in all the hurly…burly seemed to
go straight into their hearts。 He eyed them ironicallytheir eager
voices； and little coos of sympathy seemed to him vulgar。 In the
thick of the crowd he slipped his arm out of Margit's； but； just as
he thought that he was free； the unwelcome hand slid up again。 He
tried again； but again Margit reappeared； serene； and full of
pleasant humour； and his failure this time appeared to him in a comic
light。 But when Rozsi leaned across him； the glow of her round
cheek； her curving lip； the inscrutable grey gleam of her eyes； sent
a thrill of longing through him。 He was obliged to stand by while
they parleyed with a gipsy； whose matted locks and skinny hands
inspired him with a not unwarranted disgust。 〃Folly！〃 he muttered；
as Rozsi held out her palm。 The old woman mumbled； and shot a
malignant look at him。 Rozsi drew back her hand； and crossed
herself。 ' Folly！' Swithin thought again； and seizing the girls'
arms； he hurried them away。
〃What did the old hag say？〃 he asked。
Rozsi shook her head。
〃You don't mean that you believe？〃
Her eyes were full of tears。 〃The gipsies are wise；〃 she murmured。
〃Come； what did she tell you？〃
This time Rozsi looked hurriedly round； and slipped away into the
crowd。 After a hunt they found her； and Swithin； who was scared；
growled： 〃You shouldn't do such thingsit's not respectable。〃
On higher ground； in the centre of a clear space； a military band was
playing。 For the privilege of entering this charmed circle Swithin
paid three kronen； choosing naturally the best seats。 He ordered
wine； too； watching Rozsi out of the corner of his eye as he poured
it out。 The protecting tenderness of yesterday was all lost in this
medley。 It was every man for himself； after all！ The colour had
deepened again in her cheeks； she laughed； pouting her lips。
Suddenly she put her glass aside。 〃Thank you； very much；〃 she said；
〃it is enough！〃
Margit； whose pretty mouth was all smiles； cried； 〃Lieber Gott！ is it
not good…life？〃 It was not a question Swithin could undertake to
answer。 The band began to play a waltz。 〃Now they will dance。
Lieber Gott！ and are the lights not wonderful？〃 Lamps were
flickering beneath the trees like a swarm of fireflies。 There was a
hum as from a gigantic beehive。 Passers…by lifted their faces； then
vanished into the crowd； Rozsi stood gazing at them spellbound； as if
their very going and coming were a delight。
The space was soon full of whirling couples。 Rozsi's head began to
beat time。 〃O Margit！〃 she whispered。
Swithin's face had assumed a solemn； uneasy expression。 A man
raising his hat； offered his arm to Margit。 She glanc