III
At last, he was able to work. He began to appreciate to the full the joys of freedom. There was nothing to fray his nerves, nothing to dissipate his energy. It could flow, all in one steady stream, into his work. There were few distractions. At the moment, he had only just enough money to keep body and soul together. Abbots Puissants was still unletтБатАКтБатАж
The autumn passed and most of the winter. He saw Nell once or twice a week, stolen unsatisfactory meetings. They were both conscious of the loss of the first fine rapture. She questioned him closely about the progress of the opera. How was it going? When did he expect it would be finished? What chances were there of its being produced?
Vernon was vague to all these practical aspects. He was concerned at the moment only with the creative side. The opera was getting itself born, slowly, with innumerable pangs and difficulties, with a hundred setbacks owing to VernonтАЩs own lack of experience and technique. His conversation was mostly of instrumental difficulties or possibilities. He went out with odd musicians who played in orchestras. Nell went to many concerts and was fond of music, but it is doubtful if she could have told an oboe from a clarinet. SheтАЩd always imagined a horn and a French horn to be much the same thing. The technical knowledge needed in score writing appalled her, and VernonтАЩs indifference to how and when the opera would be produced made her uneasy.
He hardly realized himself how much his uncertain answers depressed and alienated Nell. He was startled one day when she said to himтБатАФindeed not so much said as wailed:
тАЬOh, Vernon, donтАЩt try me too hard. ItтАЩs so difficultтБатАФso difficult. I must have some hope. You donтАЩt understand.тАЭ
He looked at her astonished.
тАЬBut, Nell, itтАЩs all right really. ItтАЩs only a question of being patient.тАЭ
тАЬI know, Vernon. I shouldnтАЩt have said that, but you seeтБатАФтАЭ
She paused.
тАЬIt makes it so much more difficult for me, darling,тАЭ said Vernon, тАЬif I feel that youтАЩre unhappy.тАЭ
тАЬOh, IтАЩm notтБатАФI wonтАЩt be.тАЭ
But underneath, choked down, that old feeling of resentment lifted its head again. Vernon didnтАЩt understand or care how difficult things were for her. He never had the faintest conception of her difficulties. He would, perhaps, have called them silly or trivial. They were, in one sense, but in another they werenтАЩtтБатАФsince the sum total of them went to make up her life. Vernon didnтАЩt see or realize that she was fighting a battleтБатАФfighting it all the time. She could never relax. If he could only realize that, give her a word of cheer, show her that he understood the difficult position in which she was placed. But he never would see.
A devastating sense of loneliness swept over Nell. Men were like thatтБатАФthey never understood or cared. LoveтБатАФthat seemed to solve everything. But really it didnтАЩt solve anything at all. She almost hated Vernon. Selfishly absorbed in his work, disliking her to be unhappy because it upset himтБатАКтБатАж
She thought: тАЬAny woman would understand.тАЭ
And, moved by some obscure impulse, she went of her own accord to see Jane Harding.
Jane was in, and if she was surprised to see Nell, she did not show it. They talked for some time on desultory things. Yet Nell had a feeling that Jane was waiting and watching, biding her time.
Why had she come? She didnтАЩt know. She feared and distrusted JaneтБатАФperhaps that was why! Jane was her enemy. Yes, but she had a fear that her enemy had a wisdom denied to her. Jane (she put it to herself) was clever. She was, very possibly, badтБатАФyes, she was sure Jane was badтБатАФbut somehow or other one might learn from her.
She began rather blunderingly. Did Jane think that VernonтАЩs music was likely to be successfulтБатАФthat is to say successful soon? She tried in vain to keep a quaver out of her voice.
She felt JaneтАЩs cool green eyes upon her.
тАЬThings getting difficult?тАЭ
тАЬYes, you seeтБатАФтАЭ
It tumbled out, a great deal of it: the shifts, the difficulties, the unspoken force of her motherтАЩs silent pressure, a dimly veiled reference to Someone, name not given, Someone who understood and was kind and was rich.
How easy to say these things to a womanтБатАФeven a woman like Jane, who couldnтАЩt know anything about them. Women understoodтБатАФthey didnтАЩt pooh-pooh trifles and make everything out to be unimportant.
When she had finished, Jane said: тАЬItтАЩs a little hard on you. When you first met Vernon you had no idea of this music business.тАЭ
тАЬI didnтАЩt think it would be like this,тАЭ said Nell bitterly.
тАЬWell, itтАЩs no good going back to what you didnтАЩt think, is it?тАЭ
тАЬI suppose not.тАЭ Nell felt vaguely annoyed at JaneтАЩs tone. тАЬOh!тАЭ she broke out. тАЬYou feel, of course, that everything ought to give way to his musicтБатАФthat heтАЩs a geniusтБатАФthat I ought to be glad to make any sacrifice.тАЭ
тАЬNo, I donтАЩt,тАЭ said Jane. тАЬI donтАЩt think any of those things. I donтАЩt know what good geniuses are, or works of art either. Some people are born with a feeling that they matter more than anything else, and some people arenтАЩt. ItтАЩs impossible to say whoтАЩs right. The best thing for you would be to persuade Vernon to give up music, sell Abbots Puissants, and settle down with you on the proceeds. But I do know this, that you havenтАЩt an earthly chance of getting him to give up music. These things, genius, art, whatever you like to call it, are much stronger than you are. You might just as well be King Canute on the sea shore. You canтАЩt turn back Vernon from music.тАЭ
тАЬWhat can I do?тАЭ said Nell hopelessly.
тАЬWell, you can either marry this other man you were talking of and be reasonably happy, or you can marry Vernon and be actively unhappy with periods of bliss.тАЭ
Nell looked at her.
тАЬWhat would you do?тАЭ she whispered.
тАЬOh! I should marry Vernon and be unhappy, but then some of us like taking our pleasures sadly.тАЭ
Nell got up. She stood in the doorway looking back at Jane who had not moved. She was lying back against the wall, smoking a cigarette, her eyes half closed. She looked a little like a cat, or a Chinese idol. A sudden wave of fury came over Nell.
тАЬI hate you,тАЭ she cried. тАЬYouтАЩre taking Vernon away from me. YesтБатАФyou. YouтАЩre badтБатАФevil. I know it, I can feel it. YouтАЩre a bad woman.тАЭ
тАЬYouтАЩre jealous,тАЭ said Jane quietly.
тАЬYou admit then, thereтАЩs something to be jealous of? Not that Vernon loves you. He doesnтАЩt. He never would. ItтАЩs you who want to get hold of him.тАЭ
There was silenceтБатАФa pulsating silence. Then, without moving, Jane laughed. Nell hurried out of the flat, hardly knowing what she was doing.