She pointed to some faded-looking cards which proved to be imaginary views of Alum Bay done in variegated sand. Siegmund smiled.

“I wonder if they dribbled the sand on with a fine glass tube,” he said.

“Or a brush,” said Helena.

“She does not understand,” said Siegmund to himself. “And whatever I do I must not tell her. I should have thought she would understand.”

As he walked home beside her there mingled with his other feelings resentment against her. Almost he hated her.