Part + 

I + 

I + 

The two young menвБ†вАФthey were of the English public official classвБ†вАФsat in the perfectly appointed railway carriage. The leather straps to the windows were of virgin newness; the mirrors beneath the new luggage racks immaculate as if they had reflected very little; the bulging upholstery in its luxuriant, regulated curves was scarlet and yellow in an intricate, minute dragon pattern, the design of a geometrician in Cologne. The compartment smelt faintly, hygienically of admirable varnishвБ†вАФthe train ran as smoothlyвБ†вАФTietjens remembered thinkingвБ†вАФas British gilt-edged securities. It travelled fast; yet had it swayed or jolted over the rail joints, except at the curve before Tonbridge or over the points at Ashford where these eccentricities are expected and allowed for, Macmaster, Tietjens felt certain, would have written to the company. Perhaps he would even have written to the Times. + 

Their class administered the world, not merely the newly-created Imperial Department of Statistics under Sir Reginald Ingleby. If they saw policemen misbehave, railway porters lack civility, an insufficiency of street lamps, defects in public services or in foreign countries, they saw to it, either with nonchalant Balliol voices, or with letters to the Times, asking in regretful indignation: вАЬHas the British This or That come to this!вАЭ Or they wrote, in the serious reviews of which so many still survived, articles taking under their care, manners, the Arts, diplomacy, inter-Imperial trade or the personal reputations of deceased statesmen and men of letters. + 

Macmaster, that is to say, would do all that: of himself Tietjens was not so certain. There sat Macmaster; smallish; Whig; with a trimmed, pointed black beard, such as a smallish man might wear to enhance his already germinated distinction; black hair of a stubborn fibre, drilled down with hard metal brushes; a sharp nose; strong, level teeth; a white, butterfly collar of the smoothness of porcelain; a tie confined by a gold ring, steel-blue speckled with blackвБ†вАФto match his eyes, as Tietjens knew. + 

Tietjens, on the other hand, could not remember what coloured tie he had on. He had taken a cab from the office to their rooms, had got himself into a loose, tailored coat and trousers, and a soft shirt, had packed, quickly, but still methodically, a great number of things in an immense two-handled kit-bag, which you could throw into a guardвАЩs van if need be. He disliked letting that вАЬmanвАЭ touch his things; he had disliked letting his wifeвАЩs maid pack for him. He even disliked letting porters carry his kit-bag. He was a ToryвБ†вАФand as he disliked changing his clothes, there he sat, on the journey, already in large, brown, hugely-welted and nailed golf boots, leaning forward on the edge of the cushion, his legs apart, on each knee an immense white handвБ†вАФand thinking vaguely. + 

Macmaster, on the other hand, was leaning back, reading some small, unbound printed sheets, rather stiff, frowning a little. Tietjens knew that this was, for Macmaster, an impressive moment. He was correcting the proofs of his first book. + 

To this affair, as Tietjens knew, there attached themselves many fine shades. If, for instance, you had asked Macmaster whether he were a writer, he would have replied with the merest suggestion of a deprecatory shrug. + 

вАЬNo, dear lady!вАЭ for of course no man would ask the question of anyone so obviously a man of the world. And he would continue with a smile: вАЬNothing so fine! A mere trifler at odd moments. A critic, perhaps. Yes! A little of a critic.вАЭ + 

Nevertheless Macmaster moved in drawing-rooms that, with long curtains, blue china plates, large-patterned wallpapers and large, quiet mirrors, sheltered the long-haired of the Arts. And, as near as possible to the dear ladies who gave the At Homes, Macmaster could keep up the talkвБ†вАФa little magisterially. He liked to be listened to with respect when he spoke of Botticelli, Rossetti, and those early Italian artists whom he called вАЬThe Primitives.вАЭ Tietjens had seen him there. And he didnвАЩt disapprove. + 

For, if they werenвАЩt, these gatherings, Society, they formed a stage on the long and careful road to a career in a first-class Government office. And, utterly careless as Tietjens imagined himself of careers or offices, he was, if sardonically, quite sympathetic towards his friendвАЩs ambitiousnesses. It was an odd friendship, but the oddnesses of friendships are a frequent guarantee of their lasting texture. + 

The youngest son of a Yorkshire country gentleman, Tietjens himself was entitled to the bestвБ†вАФthe best that first-class public offices and first-class people could afford. He was without ambition, but these things would come to him as they do in England. So he could afford to be negligent of his attire, of the company he kept, of the opinions he uttered. He had a little private income under his motherвАЩs settlement; a little income from the Imperial Department of Statistics; he had married a woman of means, and he was, in the Tory manner, sufficiently a master of flouts and jeers to be listened to when he spoke. He was twenty-six; but, very big, in a fair, untidy, Yorkshire way, he carried more weight than his age warranted. His chief, Sir Reginald Ingleby, when Tietjens chose to talk of public tendencies which influenced statistics, would listen with attention. Sometimes Sir Reginald would say: вАЬYouвАЩre a perfect encyclop√¶dia of exact material knowledge, Tietjens,вАЭ and Tietjens thought that that was his due, and he would accept the tribute in silence. + 

At a word from Sir Reginald, Macmaster, on the other hand, would murmur: вАЬYouвАЩre very good, Sir Reginald!вАЭ and Tietjens thought that perfectly proper. + 

Macmaster was a little the senior in the service as he was probably a little the senior in age. For, as to his roommateвАЩs years, or as to his exact origins, there was a certain blank in TietjensвАЩ knowledge. Macmaster was obviously Scotch by birth, and you accepted him as what was called a вАЬson of the manse.вАЭ No doubt he was really the son of a grocer in Cupar or a railway porter in Edinburgh. It does not matter with the Scotch, and as he was very properly reticent as to his ancestry, having accepted him, you didnвАЩt, even mentally, make any enquiries. + 

Tietjens always had accepted MacmasterвБ†вАФat Clifton, at Cambridge, in Chancery Lane and in their rooms at GrayвАЩs Inn. So for Macmaster he had a very deep affectionвБ†вАФeven a gratitude. And Macmaster might be considered as returning these feelings. Certainly he had always done his best to be of service to Tietjens. Already at the Treasury and attached as private secretary to Sir Reginald Ingleby, whilst Tietjens was still at Cambridge, Macmaster had brought to the notice of Sir Reginald TietjensвАЩ many great natural gifts, and Sir Reginald, being on the lookout for young men for his ewe lamb, his newly-founded department, had very readily accepted Tietjens as his third in command. On the other hand, it had been TietjensвАЩ father who had recommended Macmaster to the notice of Sir Thomas Block at the Treasury itself. And, indeed, the TietjensвАЩ family had provided a little moneyвБ†вАФthat was TietjensвАЩ mother reallyвБ†вАФto get Macmaster through Cambridge and install him in Town. He had repaid the small sumвБ†вАФpaying it partly by finding room in his chambers for Tietjens when in turn he came to Town. + 

With a Scots young man such a position had been perfectly possible. Tietjens had been able to go to his fair, ample, saintly mother in her morning-room and say: + 

вАЬLook here, mother, that fellow Macmaster! HeвАЩll need a little money to get through the University,вАЭ and his mother would answer: + 

вАЬYes, my dear. How much?вАЭ + 

With an English young man of the lower orders that would have left a sense of class obligation. With Macmaster it just didnвАЩt. + 

During TietjensвАЩ late troubleвБ†вАФfor four months before TietjensвАЩ wife had left him to go abroad with another manвБ†вАФMacmaster had filled a place that no other man could have filled. For the basis of Christopher TietjensвАЩ emotional existence was a complete taciturnityвБ†вАФat any rate as to his emotions. As Tietjens saw the world, you didnвАЩt вАЬtalk.вАЭ Perhaps you didnвАЩt even think about how you felt. + 

And, indeed, his wifeвАЩs flight had left him almost completely without emotions that he could realise, and he had not spoken more than twenty words at most about the event. Those had been mostly to his father, who, very tall, very largely built, silver-haired and erect, had drifted, as it were, into MacmasterвАЩs drawing-room in GrayвАЩs Inn, and after five minutes of silence had said: + 

вАЬYou will divorce?вАЭ + 

Christopher had answered: + 

вАЬNo! No one but a blackguard would ever submit a woman to the ordeal of divorce.вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Tietjens had digested that, and after an interval had asked: + 

вАЬYou will permit her to divorce you?вАЭ + 

He had answered: + 

вАЬIf she wishes it. ThereвАЩs the child to be considered.вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Tietjens said: + 

вАЬYou will get her settlement transferred to the child?вАЭ + 

Christopher answered: + 

вАЬIf it can be done without friction.вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Tietjens had commented only: + 

вАЬAh!вАЭ Some minutes later he had said: + 

вАЬYour motherвАЩs very well.вАЭ Then: вАЬThat motor-plough didnвАЩt answer,вАЭ and then: вАЬI shall be dining at the club.вАЭ + 

Christopher said: + 

вАЬMay I bring Macmaster in, sir? You said you would put him up.вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Tietjens answered: + 

вАЬYes, do. Old General Ffolliott will be there. HeвАЩll second him. HeвАЩd better make his acquaintance.вАЭ He had gone away. + 

Tietjens considered that his relationship with his father was an almost perfect one. They were like two men in the clubвБ†вАФthe only club; thinking so alike that there was no need to talk. His father had spent a great deal of time abroad before succeeding to the estate. When, over the moors, he went into the industrial town that he owned, he drove always in a coach-and-four. Tobacco smoke had never been known inside Groby Hall: Mr.¬†Tietjens had twelve pipes filled every morning by his head gardener and placed in rose bushes down the drive. These he smoked during the day. He farmed a good deal of his own land; had sat for Holdernesse from 1876 to 1881, but had not presented himself for election after the redistribution of seats; he was patron of eleven livings; rode to hounds every now and then, and shot fairly regularly. He had three other sons and two daughters, and was now sixty-one. + 

To his sister Effie, on the day after his wifeвАЩs elopement, Christopher had said over the telephone: + 

вАЬWill you take Tommie for an indefinite period? Marchant will come with him. She offers to take charge of your two youngest as well, so youвАЩll save a maid, and IвАЩll pay their board and a bit over.вАЭ + 

The voice of his sisterвБ†вАФfrom YorkshireвБ†вАФhad answered: + 

вАЬCertainly, Christopher.вАЭ She was the wife of a vicar, near Groby, and she had several children. + 

To Macmaster Tietjens had said: + 

вАЬSylvia has left me with that fellow Perowne.вАЭ + 

Macmaster had answered only: вАЬAh!вАЭ + 

Tietjens had continued: + 

вАЬIвАЩm letting the house and warehousing the furniture. Tommie is going to my sister Effie. Marchant is going with him.вАЭ + 

Macmaster had said: + 

вАЬThen youвАЩll be wanting your old rooms.вАЭ Macmaster occupied a very large storey of the GrayвАЩs Inn buildings. After Tietjens had left him on his marriage he had continued to enjoy solitude, except that his man had moved down from the attic to the bedroom formerly occupied by Tietjens. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬIвАЩll come in tomorrow night if I may. That will give Ferens time to get back into his attic.вАЭ + 

That morning, at breakfast, four months having passed, Tietjens had received a letter from his wife. She asked, without any contrition at all, to be taken back. She was fed-up with Perowne and Brittany. + 

Tietjens looked up at Macmaster. Macmaster was already half out of his chair, looking at him with enlarged, steel-blue eyes, his beard quivering. By the time Tietjens spoke Macmaster had his hand on the neck of the cut-glass brandy decanter in the brown wood tantalus. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬSylvia asks me to take her back.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬHave a little of this!вАЭ + 

Tietjens was about to say: вАЬNo,вАЭ automatically. He changed that to: + 

вАЬYes. Perhaps. A liqueur glass.вАЭ + 

He noticed that the lip of the decanter agitated, tinkling on the glass. Macmaster must be trembling. + 

Macmaster, with his back still turned, said: + 

вАЬShall you take her back?вАЭ + 

Tietjens answered: + 

вАЬI imagine so.вАЭ The brandy warmed his chest in its descent. Macmaster said: + 

вАЬBetter have another.вАЭ + 

Tietjens answered: + 

вАЬYes. Thanks.вАЭ + 

Macmaster went on with his breakfast and his letters. So did Tietjens. Ferens came in, removed the bacon plates and set on the table a silver water-heated dish that contained poached eggs and haddock. A long time afterwards Tietjens said: + 

вАЬYes, in principle IвАЩm determined to. But I shall take three days to think out the details.вАЭ + 

He seemed to have no feelings about the matter. Certain insolent phrases in SylviaвАЩs letter hung in his mind. He preferred a letter like that. The brandy made no difference to his mentality, but it seemed to keep him from shivering. + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬSuppose we go down to Rye by the 11:40. We could get a round after tea now the days are long. I want to call on a parson near there. He has helped me with my book.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬDid your poet know parsons? But of course he did. Duchemin is the name, isnвАЩt it?вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬWe could call about two-thirty. That will be all right in the country. We stay till four with a cab outside. We can be on the first tee at five. If we like the course weвАЩll stay next day: then Tuesday at Hythe and Wednesday at Sandwich. Or we could stay at Rye all your three days.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt will probably suit me better to keep moving,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬThere are those British Columbia figures of yours. If we took a cab now I could finish them for you in an hour and twelve minutes. Then British North America can go to the printers. ItвАЩs only 8:30 now.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said, with some concern: + 

вАЬOh, but you couldnвАЩt. I can make our going all right with Sir Reginald.вАЭ Tietjens said: + 

вАЬOh, yes I can. Ingleby will be pleased if you tell him theyвАЩre finished. IвАЩll have them ready for you to give him when he comes at ten.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬWhat an extraordinary fellow you are, Chrissie. Almost a genius!вАЭ + 

вАЬOh,вАЭ Tietjens answered. вАЬI was looking at your papers yesterday after youвАЩd left and IвАЩve got most of the totals in my head. I was thinking about them before I went to sleep. I think you make a mistake in overestimating the pull of Klondyke this year on the population. The passes are open, but relatively no one is going through. IвАЩll add a note to that effect.вАЭ + 

In the cab he said: + 

вАЬIвАЩm sorry to bother you with my beastly affairs. But how will it affect you and the office?вАЭ + 

вАЬThe office,вАЭ Macmaster said, вАЬnot at all. It is supposed that Sylvia is nursing Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite abroad. As for me, I wish.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭвБ†вАФhe closed his small, strong teethвБ†вАФвАЬI wish you would drag the woman through the mud. By God I do! Why should she mangle you for the rest of your life? SheвАЩs done enough!вАЭ + 

Tietjens gazed out over the flap of the cab. + 

That explained a question. Some days before, a young man, a friend of his wifeвАЩs rather than of his own, had approached him in the club and had said that he hoped Mrs.¬†SatterthwaiteвБ†вАФhis wifeвАЩs motherвБ†вАФwas better. He said now: + 

вАЬI see. Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite has probably gone abroad to cover up SylviaвАЩs retreat. SheвАЩs a sensible woman, if a bitch.вАЭ + 

The hansom ran through nearly empty streets, it being very early for the public official quarters. The hoofs of the horse clattered precipitately. Tietjens preferred a hansom, horses being made for gentlefolk. He had known nothing of how his fellows had viewed his affairs. It was breaking up a great, numb inertia to enquire. + 

During the last few months he had employed himself in tabulating from memory the errors in the Encyclop√¶dia Britannica, of which a new edition had lately appeared. He had even written an article for a dull monthly on the subject. It had been so caustic as to miss its mark, rather. He despised people who used works of reference; but the point of view had been so unfamiliar that his article had galled no oneвАЩs withers, except possibly MacmasterвАЩs. Actually it had pleased Sir Reginald Ingleby, who had been glad to think that he had under him a young man with a memory so tenacious and so encyclop√¶dic a knowledge.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

That had been a congenial occupation, like a long drowse. Now he had to make enquiries. He said: + 

вАЬAnd my breaking up the establishment at twenty-nine? HowвАЩs that viewed? IвАЩm not going to have a house again.вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs considered,вАЭ Macmaster answered, вАЬthat Lowndes Street did not agree with Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite. That accounted for her illness. Drains wrong. I may say that Sir Reginald entirelyвБ†вАФexpressly approves. He does not think that young married men in Government offices should keep up expensive establishments in the S.W. district.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬDamn him.вАЭ He added: вАЬHeвАЩs probably right though.вАЭ He then said: вАЬThanks. ThatвАЩs all I want to know. A certain discredit has always attached to cuckolds. Very properly. A man ought to be able to keep his wife.вАЭ + 

Macmaster exclaimed anxiously: + 

вАЬNo! No! Chrissie.вАЭ + 

Tietjens continued: + 

вАЬAnd a first-class public office is very like a public school. It might very well object to having a man whose wife had bolted amongst its members. I remember Clifton hated it when the Governors decided to admit the first Jew and the first nigger.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬI wish you wouldnвАЩt go on.вАЭ + 

вАЬThere was a fellow,вАЭ Tietjens continued, вАЬwhose land was next to ours. Conder his name was. His wife was habitually unfaithful to him. She used to retire with some fellow for three months out of every year. Conder never moved a finger. But we felt Groby and the neighbourhood were unsafe. It was awkward introducing himвБ†вАФnot to mention herвБ†вАФin your drawing-room. All sorts of awkwardnesses. Everyone knew the younger children werenвАЩt ConderвАЩs. A fellow married the youngest daughter and took over the hounds. And not a soul called on her. It wasnвАЩt rational or just. But thatвАЩs why society distrusts the cuckold, really. It never knows when it maynвАЩt be driven into something irrational and unjust.вАЭ + 

вАЬBut you arenвАЩt,вАЭ Macmaster said with real anguish, вАЬgoing to let Sylvia behave like that.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬHow am I to stop it? Mind you, I think Conder was quite right. Such calamities are the will of God. A gentleman accepts them. If the woman wonвАЩt divorce, he must accept them, and it gets talked about. You seem to have made it all right this time. You and, I suppose, Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite between you. But you wonвАЩt be always there. Or I might come across another woman.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬAh!вАЭ and after a moment: + 

вАЬWhat then?вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬGod knows.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ThereвАЩs that poor little beggar to be considered. Marchant says heвАЩs beginning to talk broad Yorkshire already.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬIf it wasnвАЩt for that.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ That would be a solution.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: вАЬAh!вАЭ + 

When he paid the cabman, in front of a grey cement portal with a gabled arch, reaching up, he said: + 

вАЬYouвАЩve been giving the mare less licorice in her mash. I told you sheвАЩd go better.вАЭ + 

The cabman, with a scarlet, varnished face, a shiny hat, a drab box-cloth coat and a gardenia in his buttonhole, said: + 

вАЬAh! Trust you to remember, sir.вАЭ + 

In the train, from beneath his pile of polished dressing and despatch casesвБ†вАФTietjens had thrown his immense kit-bag with his own hands into the guardвАЩs vanвБ†вАФMacmaster looked across at his friend. It was, for him, a great day. Across his face were the proof-sheets of his first, small, delicate-looking volume.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A small page, the type black and still odorous! He had the agreeable smell of the printerвАЩs ink in his nostrils; the fresh paper was still a little damp. In his white, rather spatulate, always slightly cold fingers, was the pressure of the small, flat, gold pencil he had purchased especially for these corrections. He had found none to make. + 

He had expected a wallowing of pleasureвБ†вАФalmost the only sensuous pleasure he had allowed himself for many months. Keeping up the appearances of an English gentleman on an exiguous income was no mean task. But to wallow in your own phrases, to be rejoiced by the savour of your own shrewd pawkinesses, to feel your rhythm balanced and yet soberвБ†вАФthat is a pleasure beyond most, and an inexpensive one at that. He had had it from mere вАЬarticlesвАЭвБ†вАФon the philosophies and domestic lives of such great figures as Carlyle and Mill, or on the expansion of inter-colonial trade. This was a book. + 

He relied upon it to consolidate his position. In the office they were mostly вАЬborn,вАЭ and not vastly sympathetic. There was a sprinkling, tooвБ†вАФit was beginning to be a large oneвБ†вАФof young men who had obtained their entry by merit or by sheer industry. These watched promotions jealously, discerning nepotic increases of increment and clamouring amongst themselves at favouritisms. + 

To these he had been able to turn a cold shoulder. His intimacy with Tietjens permitted him to be rather on the вАЬbornвАЭ side of the institution, his agreeablenessвБ†вАФhe knew he was agreeable and useful!вБ†вАФto Sir Reginald Ingleby, protecting him in the main from unpleasantness. His вАЬarticlesвАЭ had given him a certain right to an austerity of demeanour; his book he trusted to let him adopt an almost judicial attitude. He would then be the Mr.¬†Macmaster, the critic, the authority. And the first-class departments are not adverse from having distinguished men as ornaments to their company; at any rate the promotion of the distinguished is not objected to. So Macmaster sawвБ†вАФalmost physicallyвБ†вАФSir Reginald Ingleby perceiving the empressement with which his valued subordinate was treated in the drawing-rooms of Mrs.¬†Leamington, Mrs.¬†Cressy, the Hon.¬†Mrs.¬†de Limoux; Sir Reginald would perceive that, for he was not a reader himself of much else than Government publications, and he would feel fairly safe in making easy the path of his critically-gifted and austere young helper. The son of a very poor shipping clerk in an obscure Scotch harbour town, Macmaster had very early decided on the career that he would make. As between the heroes of Mr.¬†Smiles, an author enormously popular in MacmasterвАЩs boyhood, and the more distinctly intellectual achievements open to the very poor Scot, Macmaster had had no difficulty in choosing. A pit lad may rise to be a mine owner; a hard, gifted, unsleeping Scots youth, pursuing unobtrusively and unobjectionably a course of study and of public usefulness will certainly achieve distinction, security and the quiet admiration of those around him. It was the difference between the may and the will, and Macmaster had had no difficulty in making his choice. He saw himself by now almost certain of a career that should give him at fifty a knighthood, and long before that a competence, a drawing-room of his own and a lady who should contribute to his unobtrusive fame, she moving about, in that room, amongst the best of the intellects of the day, gracious, devoted, a tribute at once to his discernment and his achievements. Without some disaster he was sure of himself. Disasters come to men through drink, bankruptcy and women. Against the first two he knew himself immune, though his expenses had a tendency to outrun his income, and he was always a little in debt to Tietjens. Tietjens fortunately had means. As to the third, he was not so certain. His life had necessarily been starved of women, and, arrived at a stage when the female element might, even with due respect to caution, be considered as a legitimate feature of his life, he had to fear a rashness of choice due to that very starvation. The type of woman he needed he knew to exactitude: tall, graceful, dark, loose-gowned, passionate yet circumspect, oval-featured, deliberative, gracious to everyone around her. He could almost hear the very rustle of her garments. + 

And yetвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He had had passages when a sort of blind unreason had attracted him almost to speechlessness towards girls of the most giggling, behind-the-counter order, big-bosomed, scarlet-cheeked. It was only Tietjens who had saved him from the most questionable entanglements. + 

вАЬHang it,вАЭ Tietjens would say, вАЬdonвАЩt get messing round that trollop. All you could do with her would be to set her up in a tobacco shop, and she would be tearing your beard out inside the quarter. Let alone you canвАЩt afford it.вАЭ + 

And Macmaster, who would have sentimentalised the plump girl to the tune of вАЬHighland Mary,вАЭ would for a day damn Tietjens up and down for a coarse brute. But at the moment he thanked God for Tietjens. There he sat, near to thirty, without an entanglement, a blemish on his health, or a worry with regard to any woman. + 

With deep affection and concern he looked across at his brilliant junior, who hadnвАЩt saved himself. Tietjens had fallen into the most barefaced snare, into the cruellest snare, of the worst woman that could be imagined. + 

And Macmaster suddenly realised that he wasnвАЩt wallowing, as he had imagined that he would, in the sensuous current of his prose. He had begun spiritedly with the first neat square of a paragraph.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Certainly his publishers had done well by him in the matter of print: + 

вАЬWhether we consider him as the imaginer of mysterious, sensuous and exact plastic beauty; as the manipulator of sonorous, rolling and full-mouthed lines; of words as full of colour as were his canvases; or whether we regard him as the deep philosopher, elucidating and drawing his illumination from the arcana of a mystic hardly greater than himself, to Gabriel Charles Dante Rossetti, the subject of this little monograph, must be accorded the name of one who has profoundly influenced the outward aspects, the human contacts, and all those things that go to make up the life of our higher civilisation as we live it today.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Macmaster realised that he had only got thus far with his prose, and had got thus far without any of the relish that he had expected, and that then he had turned to the middle paragraph of page threeвБ†вАФafter the end of his exordium. His eyes wandered desultorily along the line: + 

вАЬThe subject of these pages was born in the western central district of the metropolis in the yearвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The words conveyed nothing to him at all. He understood that that was because he hadnвАЩt got over that morning. He had looked up from his coffee-cupвБ†вАФover the rimвБ†вАФand had taken in a blue-grey sheet of notepaper in TietjensвАЩ fingers, shaking, inscribed in the large, broad-nibbed writing of that detestable harridan. And Tietjens had been staringвБ†вАФstaring with the intentness of a maddened horseвБ†вАФat his, MacmasterвАЩs, face! And grey! Shapeless! The nose like a pallid triangle on a bladder of lard! That was TietjensвАЩ face.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

He could still feel the blow, physical, in the pit of his stomach! He had thought Tietjens was going mad: that he was mad. It had passed. Tietjens had assumed the mask of his indolent, insolent self. At the office, but later, he had delivered an extraordinarily forcefulвБ†вАФand quite rudeвБ†вАФlecture to Sir Reginald on his reasons for differing from the official figures of population movements in the western territories. Sir Reginald had been much impressed. The figures were wanted for a speech of the Colonial MinisterвБ†вАФor an answer to a questionвБ†вАФand Sir Reginald had promised to put TietjensвАЩ views before the great man. That was the sort of thing to do a young fellow goodвБ†вАФbecause it got kudos for the office. They had to work on figures provided by the Colonial Governments, and if they could correct those fellows by sheer brain workвБ†вАФthat scored. + 

But there sat Tietjens, in his grey tweeds, his legs apart, lumpish, clumsy, his tallowy, intelligent-looking hands drooping inert between his legs, his eyes gazing at a coloured photograph of the port of Boulogne beside the mirror beneath the luggage rack. Blonde, high-coloured, vacant apparently, you couldnвАЩt tell what in the world he was thinking of. The mathematical theory of waves, very likely, or slips in someoneвАЩs article on Arminianism. For, absurd as it seemed, Macmaster knew that he knew next to nothing of his friendвАЩs feelings. As to them, practically no confidences had passed between them. Just two: + 

On the night before his starting for his wedding in Paris Tietjens had said to him: + 

вАЬVinny, old fellow, itвАЩs a back door way out of it. SheвАЩs bitched me.вАЭ + 

And once, rather lately, he had said: + 

вАЬDamn it! I donвАЩt even know if the childвАЩs my own!вАЭ + 

This last confidence had shocked Macmaster so irremediablyвБ†вАФthe child had been a seven monthsвАЩ child, rather ailing, and TietjensвАЩ clumsy tenderness towards it had been so marked that, even without this nightmare, Macmaster had been affected by the sight of them togetherвБ†вАФthat confidence then had pained Macmaster so frightfully, it was so appalling, that Macmaster had regarded it almost as an insult. It was the sort of confidence a man didnвАЩt make to his equal, but only to solicitors, doctors, or the clergy who are not quite men. Or, at any rate, such confidences are not made between men without appeals for sympathy, and Tietjens had made no appeal for sympathy. He had just added sardonically: + 

вАЬShe gives me the benefit of the agreeable doubt. And sheвАЩs as good as said as much to MarchantвАЭвБ†вАФMarchant had been TietjensвАЩ old nurse. + 

SuddenlyвБ†вАФand as if in a sort of unconscious losing of his headвБ†вАФMacmaster remarked: + 

вАЬYou canвАЩt say the man wasnвАЩt a poet!вАЭ + 

The remark had been, as it were, torn from him, because he had observed, in the strong light of the compartment, that half of TietjensвАЩ forelock and a roundish patch behind it was silvery white. That might have been going on for weeks: you live beside a man and notice his changes very little. Yorkshire men of fresh colour and blondish often go speckled with white very young; Tietjens had had a white hair or two at the age of fourteen, very noticeable in the sunlight when he had taken his cap off to bowl. + 

But MacmasterвАЩs mind, taking appalled change, had felt assured that Tietjens had gone white with the shock of his wifeвАЩs letter: in four hours! That meant that terrible things must be going on within him; his thoughts, at all costs, must be distracted. The mental process in Macmaster had been quite subconscious. He would not, advisedly, have introduced the painter-poet as a topic. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬI havenвАЩt said anything at all that I can remember.вАЭ + 

The obstinacy of his hard race awakened in Macmaster: + 

вАЬвАКвАШSince,вАЩвАКвАЭ he quoted, вАЬвАКвАШwhen we stand side by side + 

вАЬвАКвАШOnly hands may meet, + 

Better half this weary world + 

Lay between us, sweet! + 

Better far though hearts may break + 

Bid farewell for aye! + 

Lest thy sad eyes, meeting mine, + 

Tempt my soul away!вАЩ + 

вАЬYou canвАЩt,вАЭ he continued, вАЬsay that that isnвАЩt poetry! Great poetry.вАЭ + 

вАЬI canвАЩt say,вАЭ Tietjens answered contemptuously. вАЬI donвАЩt read poetry except Byron. But itвАЩs a filthy picture.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Macmaster said uncertainly: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know that I know the picture. Is it in Chicago?вАЭ + 

вАЬIt isnвАЩt painted!вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬBut itвАЩs there!вАЭ + 

He continued with sudden fury: + 

вАЬDamn it. WhatвАЩs the sense of all these attempts to justify fornication? EnglandвАЩs mad about it. Well, youвАЩve got your John Stuart Mills and your George Eliots for the high-class thing. Leave the furniture out! Or leave me out at least. I tell you it revolts me to think of that obese, oily man who never took a bath, in a grease-spotted dressing-gown and the underclothes heвАЩs slept in, standing beside a five shilling model with crimped hair, or some Mrs.¬†W. Three Stars, gazing into a mirror that reflects their fetid selves and gilt sunfish and drop chandeliers and plates sickening with cold bacon fat and gurgling about passion.вАЭ + 

Macmaster had gone chalk white, his short beard bristling: + 

вАЬYou darenвАЩtвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ you darenвАЩt talk like that,вАЭ he stuttered. + 

вАЬI dare!вАЭ Tietjens answered; вАЬbut I oughtnвАЩt toвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ to you! I admit that. But you oughtnвАЩt, almost as much, to talk about that stuff to me, either. ItвАЩs an insult to my intelligence.вАЭ + 

вАЬCertainly,вАЭ Macmaster said stiffly, вАЬthe moment was not opportune.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt understand what you mean,вАЭ Tietjens answered. вАЬThe moment can never be opportune. LetвАЩs agree that making a career is a dirty businessвБ†вАФfor me as for you! But decent augurs grin behind their masks. They never preach to each other.вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвАЩre getting esoteric,вАЭ Macmaster said faintly. + 

вАЬIвАЩll underline,вАЭ Tietjens went on. вАЬI quite understand that the favour of Mrs.¬†Cressy and Mrs.¬†de Limoux is essential to you! They have the ear of that old don Ingleby.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬDamn!вАЭ + 

вАЬI quite agree,вАЭ Tietjens continued, вАЬI quite approve. ItвАЩs the game as it has always been played. ItвАЩs the tradition, so itвАЩs right. ItвАЩs been sanctioned since the days of the Pr√©cieuses Ridicules.вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвАЩve a way of putting things,вАЭ Macmaster said. + 

вАЬI havenвАЩt,вАЭ Tietjens answered. вАЬItвАЩs just because I havenвАЩt that what I do say sticks out in the minds of fellows like you who are always fiddling about after literary expression. But what I do say is this: I stand for monogamy.вАЭ + 

Macmaster uttered a вАЬYou!вАЭ of amazement. + 

Tietjens answered with a negligent вАЬI!вАЭ He continued: + 

вАЬI stand for monogamy and chastity. And for no talking about it. Of course, if a man whoвАЩs a man wants to have a woman he has her. And again, no talking about it. HeвАЩd no doubt be in the end better, and better off, if he didnвАЩt. Just as it would probably be better for him if he didnвАЩt have the second glass of whisky and soda.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou call that monogamy and chastity!вАЭ Macmaster interjected. + 

вАЬI do,вАЭ Tietjens answered. вАЬAnd it probably is, at any rate itвАЩs clean. What is loathesome is all your fumbling in placket-holes and polysyllabic Justification by Love. You stand for lachrymose polygamy. ThatвАЩs all right if you can get your club to change its rules.вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвАЩre out of my depth,вАЭ Macmaster said. вАЬAnd being very disagreeable. You appear to be justifying promiscuity. I donвАЩt like it.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩm probably being disagreeable,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬJeremiahs usually are. But there ought to be a twenty yearsвАЩ close time for discussions of sham sexual morality. Your Paolo and FrancescaвБ†вАФand DanteвАЩsвБ†вАФwent, very properly, to Hell, and no bones about it. You donвАЩt get Dante justifying them. But your fellow whines about creeping into Heaven.вАЭ + 

вАЬHe doesnвАЩt,вАЭ Macmaster exclaimed. Tietjens continued with equanimity: + 

вАЬNow your novelist who writes a book to justify his every tenth or fifth seduction of a commonplace young woman in the name of the rights of shop boysвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩll admit,вАЭ Macmaster coincided, вАЬthat Briggs is going too far. I told him only last Thursday at Mrs.¬†LimouxвАЩs.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩm not talking of anyone in particular,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬI donвАЩt read novels. IвАЩm supposing a case. And itвАЩs a cleaner case than that of your pre-Raphaelite horrors! No! I donвАЩt read novels, but I follow tendencies. And if a fellow chooses to justify his seductions of uninteresting and viewy young females along the lines of freedom and the rights of man, itвАЩs relatively respectable. It would be better just to boast about his conquests in a straightforward and exultant way. ButвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou carry joking too far sometimes,вАЭ Macmaster said. вАЬIвАЩve warned you about it.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩm as solemn as an owl!вАЭ Tietjens rejoined. вАЬThe lower classes are becoming vocal. Why shouldnвАЩt they? TheyвАЩre the only people in this country who are sound in wind and limb. TheyвАЩll save the country if the countryвАЩs to be saved.вАЭ + 

вАЬAnd you call yourself a Tory!вАЭ Macmaster said. + 

вАЬThe lower classes,вАЭ Tietjens continued equably, вАЬsuch of them as get through the secondary schools, want irregular and very transitory unions. During holidays they go together on personally-conducted tours to Switzerland and such places. Wet afternoons they pass in their tiled bathrooms, slapping each other hilariously on the backs and splashing white enamel paint about.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou say you donвАЩt read novels,вАЭ Macmaster said, вАЬbut I recognise the quotation.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt read novels,вАЭ Tietjens answered. вАЬI know whatвАЩs in вАЩem. There has been nothing worth reading written in England since the eighteenth century except by a woman.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But itвАЩs natural for your enamel splashers to want to see themselves in a bright and variegated literature. Why shouldnвАЩt they? ItвАЩs a healthy, human desire, and now that printing and paper are cheap they get it satisfied. ItвАЩs healthy, I tell you. Infinitely healthier than.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He paused. + 

вАЬThan what?вАЭ Macmaster asked. + 

вАЬIвАЩm thinking,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬthinking how not to be too rude.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou want to be rude,вАЭ Macmaster said bitterly, вАЬto people who lead the contemplativeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the circumspect life.вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs precisely that,вАЭ Tietjens said. He quoted: + 

вАЬвАКвАШShe walks the lady of my delight, + 

A shepherdess of sheep; + 

She is so circumspect and right: + 

She has her thoughts to keep.вАЩвАКвАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬConfound you, Chrissie. You know everything.вАЭ + 

вАЬWell, yes,вАЭ Tietjens said musingly. вАЬI think I should want to be rude to her. I donвАЩt say I should be. Certainly I shouldnвАЩt if she were good looking. Or if she were your soulвАЩs affinity. You can rely on that.вАЭ + 

Macmaster had a sudden vision of TietjensвАЩ large and clumsy form walking beside the lady of his, MacmasterвАЩs, delight, when ultimately she was foundвБ†вАФwalking along the top of a cliff amongst tall grass and poppies and making himself extremely agreeable with talk of Tasso and Cimabue. All the same, Macmaster imagined, the lady wouldnвАЩt like Tietjens. Women didnвАЩt as a rule. His looks and his silences alarmed them. Or they hated him.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Or they liked him very much indeed. And Macmaster said conciliatorily: + 

вАЬYes, I think I could rely on that!вАЭ He added: вАЬAll the same I donвАЩt wonder thatвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He had been about to say: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt wonder that Sylvia calls you immoral.вАЭ For TietjensвАЩ wife alleged that Tietjens was detestable. He bored her, she said, by his silences; when he did speak she hated him for the immorality of his views.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But he did not finish his sentence, and Tietjens went on: + 

вАЬAll the same when the war comes it will be these little snobs who will save England, because theyвАЩve the courage to know what they want and to say so.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said loftily: + 

вАЬYouвАЩre extraordinarily old-fashioned at times, Chrissie. You ought to know as well as I do that a war is impossibleвБ†вАФat any rate with this country in it. Simply becauseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He hesitated and then emboldened himself: вАЬWeвБ†вАФthe circumspectвБ†вАФyes, the circumspect classes, will pilot the nation through the tight places.вАЭ + 

вАЬWar, my good fellow,вАЭ Tietjens saidвБ†вАФthe train was slowing down preparatorily to running into AshfordвБ†вАФвАЬis inevitable, and with this country plumb center in the middle of it. Simply because you fellows are such damn hypocrites. ThereвАЩs not a country in the world that trusts us. WeвАЩre always, as it were, committing adulteryвБ†вАФlike your fellow!вБ†вАФwith the name of Heaven on our lips.вАЭ He was jibing again at the subject of MacmasterвАЩs monograph. + 

вАЬHe never!вАЭ Macmaster said in almost a stutter. вАЬHe never whined about Heaven.вАЭ + 

вАЬHe did,вАЭ Tietjens said: вАЬThe beastly poem you quoted ends: + 

вАЬвАКвАШBetter far though hearts may break, + 

Since we dare not love, + 

Part till we once more may meet + 

In a Heaven above.вАЩвАКвАЭ + 

And Macmaster, who had been dreading that shotвБ†вАФfor he never knew how much or how little of any given poem his friend would have by heartвБ†вАФMacmaster collapsed, as it were, into fussily getting down his dressing-cases and clubs from the rack, a task he usually left to a porter. Tietjens who, however much a train might be running into a station he was bound for, sat like a rock until it was dead-still, said: + 

вАЬYes, a war is inevitable. Firstly, thereвАЩs you fellows who canвАЩt be trusted. And then thereвАЩs the multitude who mean to have bathrooms and white enamel. Millions of them; all over the world. Not merely here. And there arenвАЩt enough bathrooms and white enamel in the world to go round. ItвАЩs like you polygamists with women. There arenвАЩt enough women in the world to go round to satisfy your insatiable appetites. And there arenвАЩt enough men in the world to give each woman one. And most women want several. So you have divorce cases. I suppose you wonвАЩt say that because youвАЩre so circumspect and right there shall be no more divorce? Well, war is as inevitable as divorce.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Macmaster had his head out of the carriage window and was calling for a porter. + 

On the platform a number of women in lovely sable cloaks, with purple or red jewel cases, with diaphanous silky scarves flying from motor hoods, were drifting towards the branch train for Rye, under the shepherding of erect, burdened footmen. Two of them nodded to Tietjens. + 

Macmaster considered that he was perfectly right to be tidy in his dress; you never knew whom you mightnвАЩt meet on a railway journey. This confirmed him as against Tietjens, who preferred to look like a navvy. + 

A tall, white-haired, white-moustached, red-cheeked fellow limped after Tietjens, who was getting his immense bag out of the guardвАЩs van. He clapped the young man on the shoulder and said: + 

вАЬHullo! HowвАЩs your mother-in-law? Lady Claude wants to know. She says come up and pick a bone tonight if youвАЩre going to Rye.вАЭ He had extraordinarily blue, innocent eyes. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬHullo, General,вАЭ and added: вАЬI believe sheвАЩs much better. Quite restored. This is Macmaster. I think I shall be going over to bring my wife back in a day or two. TheyвАЩre both at LobscheidвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a German spa.вАЭ + 

The General said: + 

вАЬQuite right. It isnвАЩt good for a young man to be alone. Kiss SylviaвАЩs fingertips for me. SheвАЩs the real thing, you lucky beggar.вАЭ He added, a little anxiously: вАЬWhat about a foursome tomorrow? Paul Sandbach is down. HeвАЩs as crooked as me. We canвАЩt do a full round at singles.вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs your own fault,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬYou ought to have gone to my bonesetter. Settle it with Macmaster, will you?вАЭ He jumped into the twilight of the guardвАЩs van. + 

The General looked at Macmaster, a quick, penetrating scrutiny: + 

вАЬYouвАЩre the Macmaster,вАЭ he said. вАЬYou would be if youвАЩre with Chrissie.вАЭ + 

A high voice called: + 

вАЬGeneral! General!вАЭ + 

вАЬI want a word with you,вАЭ the General said, вАЬabout the figures in that article you wrote about Pondoland. Figures are all right. But we shall lose the beastly country ifвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But weвАЩll talk about it after dinner tonight. YouвАЩll come up to Lady ClaudineвАЩsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Macmaster congratulated himself again on his appearance. It was all very well for Tietjens to look like a sweep; he was of these people. He, Macmaster, wasnвАЩt. He had, if anything, to be an authority, and authorities wear gold tie-rings and broadcloth. General Lord Edward Campion had a son, a permanent head of the Treasury department that regulated increases of salaries and promotions in all the public offices. Tietjens only caught the Rye train by running alongside it, pitching his enormous kit-bag through the carriage window and swinging on the footboard. Macmaster reflected that if he had done that half the station would have been yelling, вАЬStand away there.вАЭ + 

As it was Tietjens a stationmaster was galloping after him to open the carriage door and grinningly to part: + 

вАЬWell caught, sir!вАЭ for it was a cricketing county. + 

вАЬTruly,вАЭ Macmaster quoted to himself, + 

вАЬвАКвАШThe gods to each ascribe a differing lot: + 

Some enter at the portal. Some do not!вАЩвАКвАЭ + 

II + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite, with her French maid, her priest, and her disreputable young man, Mr.¬†Bayliss, were at Lobscheid, an unknown and little-frequented air resort amongst the pinewoods of the Taunus. Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite was ultra-fashionable and consummately indifferentвБ†вАФshe only really lost her temper if at her table and under her nose you consumed her famous Black Hamburg grapes without taking their skin and all. Father Consett was out to have an uproarious good time during his three weeksвАЩ holiday from the slums of Liverpool; Mr.¬†Bayliss, thin like a skeleton in tight blue serge, golden haired and pink, was so nearly dead of tuberculosis, was so dead penniless, and of tastes so costly that he was ready to keep stone quiet, drink six pints of milk a day and behave himself. On the face of it he was there to write the letters of Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite, but the lady never let him enter her private rooms for fear of infection. He had to content himself with nursing a growing adoration for Father Consett. This priest, with an enormous mouth, high cheekbones, untidy black hair, a broad face that never looked too clean and waving hands that always looked too dirty, never kept still for a moment, and had a brogue such as is seldom heard outside old-fashioned English novels of Irish life. He had a perpetual laugh, like the noise made by a steam roundabout. He was, in short, a saint, and Mr.¬†Bayliss knew it, though he didnвАЩt know how. Ultimately, and with the financial assistance of Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite, Mr.¬†Bayliss became almoner to Father Consett, adopted the rule of St.¬†Vincent de Paul and wrote some very admirable, if decorative, devotional verse. + 

They proved thus a very happy, innocent party. For Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite interested herselfвБ†вАФit was the only interest she hadвБ†вАФin handsome, thin and horribly disreputable young men. She would wait for them, or send her car to wait for them, at the gaol gates. She would bring their usually admirable wardrobes up to date and give them enough money to have a good time. When contrary to all expectationsвБ†вАФbut it happened more often than not!вБ†вАФthey turned out well, she was lazily pleased. Sometimes she sent them away to a gay spot with a priest who needed a holiday; sometimes she had them down to her place in the west of England. + 

So they were a pleasant company and all very happy. Lobscheid contained one empty hotel with large verandahs and several square farmhouses, white with grey beams, painted in the gables with bouquets of blue and yellow flowers or with scarlet huntsmen shooting at purple stags. They were like gay cardboard boxes set down in fields of long grass; then the pinewoods commenced and ran, solemn, brown and geometric for miles up and down hill. The peasant girls wore black velvet waistcoats, white bodices, innumerable petticoats and absurd parti-coloured headdresses of the shape and size of halfpenny buns. They walked about in rows of four to six abreast, with a slow step, protruding white-stockinged feet in dancing pumps, their headdresses nodding solemnly; young men in blue blouses, knee-breeches and, on Sundays, in three-cornered hats, followed behind singing part-songs. + 

The French maidвБ†вАФwhom Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite had borrowed from the Duchesse de Carbon Ch√Ґteaulherault in exchange for her own maidвБ†вАФwas at first inclined to find the place maussade. But getting up a tremendous love affair with a fine, tall, blonde young fellow, who included a gun, a gold-mounted hunting knife as long as his arm, a light, grey-green uniform, with gilt badges and buttons, she was reconciled to her lot. When the young F√ґrster tried to shoot herвБ†вАФвАЬet pour cause,вАЭ as she saidвБ†вАФshe was ravished and Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite lazily amused. + 

They were sitting playing bridge in the large, shadowy dining-hall of the hotel: Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite, Father Consett, Mr.¬†Bayliss. A young blonde sublieutenant of great obsequiousness who was there as a last chance for his right lung and his career, and the bearded Kur-doctor cut in. Father Consett, breathing heavily and looking frequently at his watch, played very fast, exclaiming: вАЬHurry up now; itвАЩs nearly twelve. Hurry up wid ye.вАЭ Mr.¬†Bayliss being dummy, the Father exclaimed: вАЬThree, no trumps; IвАЩve to make. Get me a whisky and soda quick, and donвАЩt drown it as ye did the last.вАЭ He played his hand with extreme rapidity, threw down his last three cards, exclaimed: вАЬAch! Botheranouns anвАЩ all; IвАЩm two down and IвАЩve revoked on the top av it,вАЭ swallowed down his whisky and soda, looked at his watch and exclaimed: вАЬDone it to the minute! Here, doctor, take my hand and finish the rubber.вАЭ He was to take the mass next day for the local priest, and mass must be said fasting from midnight, and without cards played. Bridge was his only passion; a fortnight every year was what, in his worn-out life, he got of it. On his holiday he rose at ten. At eleven it was: вАЬA four for the Father.вАЭ From two to four they walked in the forest. At five it was: вАЬA four for the Father.вАЭ At nine it was: вАЬFather, arenвАЩt you coming to your bridge?вАЭ And Father Consett grinned all over his face and said: вАЬItвАЩs good ye are to a poor ould soggart. It will be paid back to you in Heaven.вАЭ + 

The other four played on solemnly. The Father sat himself down behind Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite, his chin in the nape of her neck. At excruciating moments he gripped her shoulders, exclaimed: вАЬPlay the queen, woman!вАЭ and breathed hard down her back. Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite would play the two of diamonds, and the Father, throwing himself back, would groan. She said over her shoulder: + 

вАЬI want to talk to you tonight, Father,вАЭ took the last trick of the rubber, collected 17 marks 50 from the doctor and 8 marks from the unter-leutnant. The doctor exclaimed: + 

вАЬYou ganвАЩt dake that immense sum from us and then ko off. Now we shall be ropped py Herr Payliss at gutt-throat!вАЭ + 

She drifted, all shadowy black silk, across the shadows of the dining-hall, dropping her winnings into her black satin vanity bag and attended by the priest. Outside the door, beneath the antlers of a royal stag, in an atmosphere of paraffin lamps and varnished pitch-pine, she said: + 

вАЬCome up to my sitting-room. The prodigalвАЩs returned. SylviaвАЩs here.вАЭ + 

The Father said: + 

вАЬI thought I saw her out of the corner of my eye in the bus after dinner. SheвАЩll be going back to her husband. ItвАЩs a poor world.вАЭ + 

вАЬSheвАЩs a wicked devil!вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said. + 

вАЬIвАЩve known her myself since she was nine,вАЭ Father Consett said, вАЬand itвАЩs little IвАЩve seen in her to hold up to the commendation of my flock.вАЭ He added: вАЬBut maybe IвАЩm made unjust by the shock of it.вАЭ + 

They climbed the stairs slowly. + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite sat herself on the edge of a cane chair. She said: + 

вАЬWell!вАЭ + 

She wore a black hat like a cartwheel and her dresses appeared always to consist of a great many squares of silk that might have been thrown on to her. Since she considered that her complexion, which was mat white, had gone slightly violet from twenty years of makeup, when she was not made upвБ†вАФas she never was at LobscheidвБ†вАФshe wore bits of puce-coloured satin ribbon stuck here and there, partly to counteract the violet of her complexion, partly to show she was not in mourning. She was very tall and extremely emaciated; her dark eyes that had beneath them dark brown thumbmarks were very tired or very indifferent by turns. + 

Father Consett walked backwards and forwards, his hands behind his back, his head bent, over the not too well polished floor. There were two candles, lit but dim, in imitation pewter nouvel art candlesticks, rather dingy; a sofa of cheap mahogany with red plush cushions and rests, a table covered with a cheap carpet and an American roll-top desk that had thrown into it a great many papers in scrolls or flat. Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite was extremely indifferent to her surroundings, but she insisted on having a piece of furniture for her papers. She liked also to have a profusion of hothouse, not garden, flowers, but as there were none of these at Lobscheid she did without them. She insisted also, as a rule, on a comfortable chaise longue which she rarely, if ever, used; but the German Empire of those days did not contain a comfortable chair, so she did without it, lying down on her bed when she was really tired. The walls of the large room were completely covered with pictures of animals in death agonies: capercailzies giving up the ghost with gouts of scarlet blood on the snow; deer dying with their heads back and eyes glazing, gouts of red blood on their necks; foxes dying with scarlet blood on green grass. These pictures were frame to frame, representing sport, the hotel having been a former Grand Ducal hunting-box, freshened to suit the taste of the day with varnished pitch-pine, bathrooms, verandahs, and excessively modern but noisy lavatory arrangements which had been put in for the delight of possible English guests. + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite sat on the edge of her chair; she had always the air of being just about to go out somewhere or of having just come in and being on the point of going to take her things off. She said: + 

вАЬThereвАЩs been a telegram waiting for her all the afternoon. I knew she was coming.вАЭ + 

Father Consett said: + 

вАЬI saw it in the rack myself. I misdoubted it.вАЭ He added: вАЬOh dear, oh dear! After all weвАЩve talked about it; now itвАЩs come.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬIвАЩve been a wicked woman myself as these things are measured; butвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Father Consett said: + 

вАЬYe have! ItвАЩs no doubt from you she gets it, for your husband was a good man. But one wicked woman is enough for my contemplation at a time. IвАЩm no St.¬†Anthony.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The young man says he will take her back?вАЭ + 

вАЬOn conditions,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said. вАЬHe is coming here to have an interview.вАЭ + 

The priest said: + 

вАЬHeaven knows, Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite, there are times when to a poor priest the rule of the Church as regards marriage seems bitter hard and he almost doubts her inscrutable wisdom. He doesnвАЩt mind you. But at times I wish that that young man would take what advantageвБ†вАФitвАЩs all there is!вБ†вАФthat he can of being a Protestant and divorce Sylvia. For I tell you, there are bitter things to see amongst my flock over thereвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He made a vague gesture towards the infiniteвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАЬAnd bitter things IвАЩve seen, for the heart of a man is a wicked place. But never a bitterer than this young manвАЩs lot.вАЭ + 

вАЬAs you say,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said, вАЬmy husband was a good man. I hated him, but that was as much my fault as his. More! And the only reason I donвАЩt wish Christopher to divorce Sylvia is that it would bring disgrace on my husbandвАЩs name. At the same time, FatherвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The priest said: + 

вАЬIвАЩve heard near enough.вАЭ + 

вАЬThereвАЩs this to be said for Sylvia,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite went on. вАЬThere are times when a woman hates a manвБ†вАФas Sylvia hates her husband.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I tell you IвАЩve walked behind a manвАЩs back and nearly screamed because of the desire to put my nails into the veins of his neck. It was a fascination. And itвАЩs worse with Sylvia. ItвАЩs a natural antipathy.вАЭ + 

вАЬWoman!вАЭ Father Consett fulminated, вАЬIвАЩve no patience wid ye! If the woman, as the Church directs, would have children by her husband and live decent, she would have no such feelings. ItвАЩs unnatural living and unnatural practices that cause these complexes. DonвАЩt think IвАЩm an ignoramus, priest if I am.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬBut SylviaвАЩs had a child.вАЭ + 

Father Consett swung round like a man that has been shot at. + 

вАЬWhose?вАЭ he asked, and he pointed a dirty finger at his interlocutress. вАЬIt was that blackguard DrakeвАЩs, wasnвАЩt it? IвАЩve long suspected that.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt was probably DrakeвАЩs,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said. + 

вАЬThen,вАЭ the priest said, вАЬin the face of the pains of the hereafter how could you let that decent lad in the hotness of his sin?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬIndeed,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said, вАЬI shiver sometimes when I think of it. DonвАЩt believe that I had anything to do with trepanning him. But I couldnвАЩt hinder it. SylviaвАЩs my daughter, and dog doesnвАЩt eat dog.вАЭ + 

вАЬThere are times when it should,вАЭ Father Consett said contemptuously. + 

вАЬYou donвАЩt seriously,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said, вАЬsay that I, a mother, if an indifferent one, with my daughter appearing in trouble, as the kitchenmaids say, by a married manвБ†вАФthat I should step in and stop a marriage that was a Godsend.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬDonвАЩt,вАЭ the priest said, вАЬintroduce the sacred name into an affair of Piccadilly bad girls.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He stopped. вАЬHeaven help me,вАЭ he said again, вАЬdonвАЩt ask me to answer the question of what you should or shouldnвАЩt have done. You know I loved your husband like a brother, and you know IвАЩve loved you and Sylvia ever since she was a tiny. And I thank God that I am not your spiritual adviser, but only your friend in God. For if I had to answer your question I could answer it only in one way.вАЭ He broke off to ask: вАЬWhere is that woman?вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite called: + 

вАЬSylvia! Sylvia! Come here!вАЭ + 

A door in the shadows opened and light shone from another room behind a tall figure leaning one hand on the handle of the door. A very deep voice said: + 

вАЬI canвАЩt understand, mother, why you live in rooms like a sergeantsвАЩ mess.вАЭ And Sylvia Tietjens wavered into the room. She added: вАЬI suppose it doesnвАЩt matter. IвАЩm bored.вАЭ + 

Father Consett groaned: + 

вАЬHeaven help us, sheвАЩs like a picture of Our Lady by Fra Angelico.вАЭ + 

Immensely tall, slight and slow in her movements, Sylvia Tietjens wore her reddish, very fair hair in great bandeaux right down over her ears. Her very oval, regular face had an expression of virginal lack of interest such as used to be worn by fashionable Paris courtesans a decade before that time. Sylvia Tietjens considered that, being privileged to go everywhere where one went and to have all men at her feet, she had no need to change her expression or to infuse into it the greater animation that marked the more common beauties of the early twentieth century. She moved slowly from the door and sat languidly on the sofa against the wall. + 

вАЬThere you are, Father,вАЭ she said. вАЬIвАЩll not ask you to shake hands with me. You probably wouldnвАЩt.вАЭ + 

вАЬAs I am a priest,вАЭ Father Consett answered, вАЬI could not refuse. But IвАЩd rather not.вАЭ + 

вАЬThis,вАЭ Sylvia repeated, вАЬappears to be a boring place.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou wonвАЩt say so tomorrow,вАЭ the priest said. вАЬThereвАЩs two young fellows.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And a sort of policeman to trepan away from your motherвАЩs maid!вАЭ + 

вАЬThat,вАЭ Sylvia answered, вАЬis meant to be bitter. But it doesnвАЩt hurt. I am done with men.вАЭ She added suddenly: вАЬMother, didnвАЩt you one day, while you were still young, say that you had done with men? Firmly! And mean it?вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬI did.вАЭ + 

вАЬAnd did you keep to it?вАЭ Sylvia asked. + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬI did.вАЭ + 

вАЬAnd shall I, do you imagine?вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬI imagine you will.вАЭ + 

Sylvia said: + 

вАЬOh dear!вАЭ + 

The priest said: + 

вАЬIвАЩd be willing to see your husbandвАЩs telegram. It makes a difference to see the words on paper.вАЭ + 

Sylvia rose effortlessly. + 

вАЬI donвАЩt see why you shouldnвАЩt,вАЭ she said. вАЬIt will give you no pleasure.вАЭ She drifted towards the door. + 

вАЬIf it would give me pleasure,вАЭ the priest said, вАЬyou would not show it me.вАЭ + 

вАЬI would not,вАЭ she said. + 

A silhouette in the doorway, she halted, drooping, and looked over her shoulder. + 

вАЬBoth you and mother,вАЭ she said, вАЬsit there scheming to make her life bearable for the Ox. I call my husband the Ox. HeвАЩs repulsive: like a swollen animal. WellвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ you canвАЩt do it.вАЭ The lighted doorway was vacant. Father Consett sighed. + 

вАЬI told you this was an evil place,вАЭ he said. вАЬIn the deep forests. SheвАЩd not have such evil thoughts in another place.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬIвАЩd rather you didnвАЩt say that, Father. Sylvia would have evil thoughts in any place.вАЭ + 

вАЬSometimes,вАЭ the priest said, вАЬat night I think I hear the claws of evil things scratching on the shutters. This was the last place in Europe to be Christianised. Perhaps it wasnвАЩt ever even Christianised and theyвАЩre here yet.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬItвАЩs all very well to talk like that in the daytime. It makes the place seem romantic. But it must be near one at night. And things are bad enough as it is.вАЭ + 

вАЬThey are,вАЭ Father Consett said. вАЬThe devilвАЩs at work.вАЭ + 

Sylvia drifted back into the room with a telegram of several sheets. Father Consett held it close to one of the candles to read, for he was shortsighted. + 

вАЬAll men are repulsive,вАЭ Sylvia said; вАЬdonвАЩt you think so, mother?вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬI do not. Only a heartless woman would say so.вАЭ + 

вАЬMrs.¬†Vanderdecken,вАЭ Sylvia went on, вАЬsays all men are repulsive and itвАЩs womanвАЩs disgusting task to live beside them.вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвАЩve been seeing that foul creature?вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said. вАЬSheвАЩs a Russian agent. And worse!вАЭ + 

вАЬShe was at Gosingeux all the time we were,вАЭ Sylvia said. вАЬYou neednвАЩt groan. She wonвАЩt split on us. SheвАЩs the soul of honour.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt wasnвАЩt because of that I groaned, if I did,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite answered. + 

The priest, from over his telegram, exclaimed: + 

вАЬMrs.¬†Vanderdecken! God forbid.вАЭ + 

SylviaвАЩs face, as she sat on the sofa, expressed languid and incredulous amusement. + 

вАЬWhat do you know of her?вАЭ she asked the Father. + 

вАЬI know what you know,вАЭ he answered, вАЬand thatвАЩs enough.вАЭ + 

вАЬFather Consett,вАЭ Sylvia said to her mother, вАЬhas been renewing his social circle.вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs not,вАЭ Father Consett said, вАЬamongst the dregs of the people that you must live if you donвАЩt want to hear of the dregs of society.вАЭ + 

Sylvia stood up. She said: + 

вАЬYouвАЩll keep your tongue off my best friends if you want me to stop and be lectured. But for Mrs.¬†Vanderdecken I should not be here, returned to the fold!вАЭ + 

Father Consett exclaimed: + 

вАЬDonвАЩt say it, child. IвАЩd rather, heaven help me, you had gone on living in open sin.вАЭ + 

Sylvia sat down again, her hands listlessly in her lap. + 

вАЬHave it your own way,вАЭ she said, and the Father returned to the fourth sheet of the telegram. + 

вАЬWhat does this mean?вАЭ he asked. He had returned to the first sheet. вАЬThis here: вАШAccept resumption yokeвАЩ?вАЭ he read, breathlessly. + 

вАЬSylvia,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said, вАЬgo and light the spirit lamp for some tea. We shall want it.вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвАЩd think I was a district messenger boy,вАЭ Sylvia said as she rose. вАЬWhy donвАЩt you keep your maid up?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs a way we had of referring to ourвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ union,вАЭ she explained to the Father. + 

вАЬThere was sympathy enough between you and him then,вАЭ he said, вАЬto have bywords for things. It was that I wanted to know. I understood the words.вАЭ + 

вАЬThey were pretty bitter bywords, as you call them,вАЭ Sylvia said. вАЬMore like curses than kisses.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt was you that used them then,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said. вАЬChristopher never said a bitter thing to you.вАЭ + 

An expression like a grin came slowly over SylviaвАЩs face as she turned back to the priest. + 

вАЬThatвАЩs motherвАЩs tragedy,вАЭ she said. вАЬMy husbandвАЩs one of her best boys. She adores him. And he canвАЩt bear her.вАЭ She drifted behind the wall of the next room and they heard her tinkling the tea-things as the Father read on again beside the candle. His immense shadow began at the centre and ran along the pitch-pine ceiling, down the wall and across the floor to join his splay feet in their clumsy boots. + 

вАЬItвАЩs bad,вАЭ he muttered. He made a sound like вАЬUmbleumbleumble.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Worse than I fearedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ umbleumble.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАШaccept resumption yoke but on rigid conditions.вАЩ WhatвАЩs this: esoecially; it ought to be a p, вАШespecially regards child reduce establishment ridiculous our position remake settlements in childвАЩs sole interests flat not house entertaining minimum am prepared resign office settle Yorkshire but imagine this not suit you child remain sister Effie open visits both wire if this rough outline provisionally acceptable in that case will express draft general position Monday for you and mother reflect upon follow self Tuesday arrive Thursday Lobscheid go Wiesbaden fortnight on social task discussion Thursday limited solely comma emphasised comma to affairs.вАЩвАКвАЭ + 

вАЬThat means,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said, вАЬthat he doesnвАЩt mean to reproach her. Emphasised applies to the word solely.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬWhy dвАЩyou take it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Father Consett asked, вАЬdid he spend an immense lot of money on this telegram? Did he imagine you were in such trepidation.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He broke off. Walking slowly, her long arms extended to carry the tea-tray, over which her wonderfully moving face had a rapt expression of indescribable mystery, Sylvia was coming through the door. + 

вАЬOh, child,вАЭ the Father exclaimed, вАЬwhether itвАЩs St.¬†Martha or that Mary that made the bitter choice, not one of them ever looked more virtuous than you. Why arenвАЩt ye born to be a good manвАЩs helpmeet?вАЭ + 

A little tinkle sounded from the tea-tray and three pieces of sugar fell on to the floor. Mrs.¬†Tietjens hissed with vexation. + 

вАЬI knew that damned thing would slide off the teacups,вАЭ she said. She dropped the tray from an inch or so of height on to the carpeted table. вАЬIвАЩd made it a matter of luck between myself and myself,вАЭ she said. Then she faced the priest. + 

вАЬIвАЩll tell you,вАЭ she said, вАЬwhy he sent the telegram. ItвАЩs because of that dull display of the English gentleman that I detested. He gives himself the solemn airs of the Foreign Minister, but heвАЩs only a youngest son at the best. That is why I loathe him.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬThat isnвАЩt the reason why he sent the telegram.вАЭ + 

Her daughter had a gesture of amused, lazy tolerance. + 

вАЬOf course it isnвАЩt,вАЭ she said. вАЬHe sent it out of consideration: the lordly, full dress consideration that drives me distracted. As he would say: вАШHeвАЩd imagine IвАЩd find it convenient to have ample time for reflection.вАЩ ItвАЩs like being addressed as if one were a monument and by a herald according to protocol. And partly because heвАЩs the soul of truth like a stiff Dutch doll. He wouldnвАЩt write a letter because he couldnвАЩt without beginning it вАШDear SylviaвАЩ and ending it вАШYours sincerelyвАЩ or вАШtrulyвАЩ or вАШaffectionately.вАЩвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ HeвАЩs that sort of precise imbecile. I tell you heвАЩs so formal he canвАЩt do without all the conventions there are and so truthful he canвАЩt use half of them.вАЭ + 

вАЬThen,вАЭ Father Consett said, вАЬif ye know him so well, Sylvia Satterthwaite, how is it ye conвАЩt get on with him better? They say: Tout savoir √ІвАЩest tout pardonner.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt isnвАЩt,вАЭ Sylvia said. вАЬTo know everything about a person is to be boredвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ boredвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ bored!вАЭ + 

вАЬAnd how are ye going to answer this telegram of his?вАЭ the Father asked. вАЬOr have ye answered it already?вАЭ + 

вАЬI shall wait until Monday night to keep him as bothered as I can to know whether heвАЩs to start on Tuesday. He fusses like a hen over his packings and the exact hours of his movements. On Monday I shall telegraph: вАШRightoвАЩ and nothing else.вАЭ + 

вАЬAnd why,вАЭ the Father asked, вАЬwill ye telegraph him a vulgar word that you never use, for your language is the one thing about you that isnвАЩt vulgar?вАЭ + 

Sylvia said: + 

вАЬThanks!вАЭ She curled her legs up under her on the sofa and laid her head back against the wall so that her Gothic arch of a chinbone pointed at the ceiling. She admired her own neck, which was very long and white. + 

вАЬI know!вАЭ Father Consett said. вАЬYouвАЩre a beautiful woman. Some men would say it was a lucky fellow that lived with you. I donвАЩt ignore the fact in my cogitation. HeвАЩd imagine all sorts of delights to lurk in the shadow of your beautiful hair. And they wouldnвАЩt.вАЭ + 

Sylvia brought her gaze down from the ceiling and fixed her brown eyes for a moment on the priest, speculatively. + 

вАЬItвАЩs a great handicap we suffer from,вАЭ he said. + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know why I selected that word,вАЭ Sylvia said, вАЬitвАЩs one word, so it costs only fifty pfennigs. I couldnвАЩt hope really to give a jerk to his pompous self-sufficiency.вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs great handicaps we priests suffer from,вАЭ the Father repeated. вАЬHowever much a priest may be a man of the worldвБ†вАФand he has to be to fight the worldвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬHave a cup of tea, Father, while itвАЩs just right. I believe Sylvia is the only person in Germany who knows how to make tea.вАЭ + 

вАЬThereвАЩs always behind him the Roman collar and the silk bib, and you donвАЩt believe in him,вАЭ Father Consett went on, вАЬyet he knows tenвБ†вАФa thousand times!вБ†вАФmore of human nature than ever you can.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt see,вАЭ Sylvia said placably, вАЬhow you can learn in your slums anything about the nature of Eunice Vanderdecken, or Elizabeth B. or Queenie James, or any of my set.вАЭ She was on her feet pouring cream into the FatherвАЩs tea. вАЬIвАЩll admit for the moment that you arenвАЩt giving me pi-jaw.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩm glad,вАЭ the priest said, вАЬthat ye remember enough of yer schooldays to use the old term.вАЭ + 

Sylvia wavered backwards to her sofa and sank down again. + 

вАЬThere you are,вАЭ she said, вАЬyou canвАЩt really get away from preachments. Me for the pyore young girl is always at the back of it.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt isnвАЩt,вАЭ the Father said. вАЬIвАЩm not one to cry for the moon.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou donвАЩt want me to be a pure young girl,вАЭ Sylvia asked with lazy incredulity. + 

вАЬI do not!вАЭ the Father said, вАЬbut IвАЩd wish that at times yeвАЩd remember you once were.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt believe I ever was,вАЭ Sylvia said. вАЬIf the nuns had known, IвАЩd have been expelled from the Holy Child.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou would not,вАЭ the Father said. вАЬDo stop your boasting. The nuns have too much sense.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Anyhow, it isnвАЩt a pure young girl IвАЩd have you or behaving like a Protestant deaconess for the craven fear of hell. IвАЩd have ye be a physically healthy, decently honest-with-yourself young devil of a married woman. ItвАЩs them that are the plague and the salvation of the world.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou admire mother?вАЭ Mrs.¬†Tietjens asked suddenly. She added in parenthesis: вАЬYou see you canвАЩt get away from salvation.вАЭ + 

вАЬI mean keeping bread and butter in their husbandвАЩs stomachs,вАЭ the priest said. вАЬOf course I admire your mother.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite moved a hand slightly. + 

вАЬYouвАЩre at any rate in league with her against me,вАЭ Sylvia said. She asked with more interest: вАЬThen would you have me model myself on her and do good works to escape hell fire? She wears a hair shirt in Lent.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite started from her doze on the edge of her chair. She had been trusting the FatherвАЩs wit to give her daughterвАЩs insolence a run for its money, and she imagined that if the priest hit hard enough he might, at least, make Sylvia think a little about some of her ways. + 

вАЬHang it, no, Sylvia,вАЭ she exclaimed more suddenly. вАЬI may not be much, but IвАЩm a sportsman. IвАЩm afraid of hell fire; horribly, IвАЩll admit. But I donвАЩt bargain with the Almighty. I hope HeвАЩll let me through; but IвАЩd go on trying to pick men out of the dirtвБ†вАФI suppose thatвАЩs what you and Father Consett meanвБ†вАФif I were as certain of going to hell as I am of going to bed tonight. So thatвАЩs that!вАЭ + 

вАЬвАКвАШAnd lo! Ben AdhemвАЩs name led all the rest!вАЩвАКвАЭ Sylvia jeered softly. вАЬAll the same I bet you wouldnвАЩt bother to reclaim men if you could not find the young, good-looking, interestingly vicious sort.вАЭ + 

вАЬI wouldnвАЩt,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said. вАЬIf they didnвАЩt interest me, why should I?вАЭ + 

Sylvia looked at Father Consett. + 

вАЬIf youвАЩre going to trounce me any more,вАЭ she said, вАЬget a move on. ItвАЩs late, IвАЩve been travelling for thirty-six hours.вАЭ + 

вАЬI will,вАЭ Father Consett said. вАЬItвАЩs a good maxim that if you swat flies enough some of them stick to the wall. IвАЩm only trying to make a little mark on your common sense. DonвАЩt you see what youвАЩre going to?вАЭ + 

вАЬWhat?вАЭ Sylvia said indifferently. вАЬHell?вАЭ + 

вАЬNo,вАЭ the Father said, вАЬIвАЩm talking of this life. Your confessor must talk to you about the next. But IвАЩll not tell you what youвАЩre going to. IвАЩve changed my mind. IвАЩll tell your mother after youвАЩre gone.вАЭ + 

вАЬTell me,вАЭ Sylvia said. + 

вАЬIвАЩll not,вАЭ Father Consett answered. вАЬGo to the fortune-tellers at the Earls Court exhibition; theyвАЩll tell ye all about the fair woman youвАЩre to beware of.вАЭ + 

вАЬThereвАЩs some of them said to be rather good,вАЭ Sylvia said. вАЬDi WilsonвАЩs told me about one. She said she was going to have a baby.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You donвАЩt mean that, Father? For I swear I never will.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬI daresay not,вАЭ the priest said. вАЬBut letвАЩs talk about men.вАЭ + 

вАЬThereвАЩs nothing you can tell me I donвАЩt know,вАЭ Sylvia said. + 

вАЬI daresay not,вАЭ the priest answered. вАЬBut letвАЩs rehearse what you do know. Now suppose you could elope with a new man every week and no questions asked? Or how often would you want to?вАЭ + 

Sylvia said: + 

вАЬJust a moment, Father,вАЭ and she addressed Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite: вАЬI suppose I shall have to put myself to bed.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou will,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said. вАЬIвАЩll not have any maid kept up after ten in a holiday resort. WhatвАЩs she to do in a place like this? Except listen for the bogies itвАЩs full of?вАЭ + 

вАЬAlways considerate!вАЭ Mrs.¬†Tietjens gibed. вАЬAnd perhaps itвАЩs just as well. IвАЩd probably beat that Marie of yoursвАЩ arms to pieces with a hairbrush if she came near me.вАЭ She added: вАЬYou were talking about men, Father.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ And then began with sudden animation to her mother: + 

вАЬIвАЩve changed my mind about that telegram. The first thing tomorrow I shall wire: вАШAgreed entirely but arrange bring Hullo Central with you.вАЩвАКвАЭ + 

She addressed the priest again: + 

вАЬI call my maid Hullo Central because sheвАЩs got a tinny voice like a telephone. I say: вАШHullo CentralвАЩвБ†вАФwhen she answers вАШYes, moddвАЩm,вАЩ youвАЩd swear it was the Exchange speaking.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But you were telling me about men.вАЭ + 

вАЬI was reminding you!вАЭ the Father said. вАЬBut I neednвАЩt go on. YouвАЩve caught the drift of my remarks. That is why you are pretending not to listen.вАЭ + 

вАЬI assure you, no,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Tietjens said. вАЬIt is simply that if a thing comes into my head I have to say it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You were saying that if one went away with a different man for every weekendвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвАЩve shortened the period already,вАЭ the priest said. вАЬI gave a full week to every man.вАЭ + 

вАЬBut, of course, one would have to have a home,вАЭ Sylvia said, вАЬan address. One would have to fill oneвАЩs midweek engagements. Really it comes to it that one has to have a husband and a place to store oneвАЩs maid in. Hullo CentralвАЩs been on board-wages all the time. But I donвАЩt believe she likes it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ LetвАЩs agree that if I had a different man every week IвАЩd be bored with the arrangement. ThatвАЩs what youвАЩre getting at, isnвАЩt it?вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвАЩd find,вАЭ the priest said, вАЬthat it whittled down until the only divvy moment was when you stood waiting in the booking-office for the young man to take the tickets.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And then gradually that wouldnвАЩt be divvy any more.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And youвАЩd yawn and long to go back to your husband.вАЭ + 

вАЬLook here,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Tietjens said, вАЬyouвАЩre abusing the secrets of the confessional. ThatвАЩs exactly what Tottie Charles said. She tried it for three months while Freddie Charles was in Madeira. ItвАЩs exactly what she said down to the yawn and the booking-office. And the вАШdivvy.вАЩ ItвАЩs only Tottie Charles who uses it every two words. Most of us prefer ripping! It is more sensible.вАЭ + 

вАЬOf course I havenвАЩt been abusing the secrets of the confessional,вАЭ Father Consett said mildly. + 

вАЬOf course you havenвАЩt,вАЭ Sylvia said with affection. вАЬYouвАЩre a good old stick and no end of a mimic, and you know us all to the bottom of our hearts.вАЭ + 

вАЬNot all that much,вАЭ the priest said, вАЬthereвАЩs probably a good deal of good at the bottom of your hearts.вАЭ + 

Sylvia said: + 

вАЬThanks.вАЭ She asked suddenly: вАЬLook here. Was it what you saw of usвБ†вАФthe future mothers of England, you know, and allвБ†вАФat Miss LampeterвАЩsвБ†вАФthat made you take to the slums? Out of disgust and despair?вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, letвАЩs not make melodrama out of it,вАЭ the priest answered. вАЬLetвАЩs say I wanted a change. I couldnвАЩt see that I was doing any good.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou did us all the good there was done,вАЭ Sylvia said. вАЬWhat with Miss Lampeter always drugged to the world, and all the French mistresses as wicked as hell.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩve heard you say all this before,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said. вАЬBut it was supposed to be the best finishing school in England. I know it cost enough!вАЭ + 

вАЬWell, say it was we who were a rotten lot,вАЭ Sylvia concluded; and then to the Father: вАЬWe were a lot of rotters, werenвАЩt we?вАЭ + 

The priest answered: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know. I donвАЩt suppose you wereвБ†вАФor areвБ†вАФany worse than your mother or grandmother, or the patricianesses of Rome or the worshippers of Ashtaroth. It seems we have to have a governing class and governing classes are subject to special temptations.вАЭ + 

вАЬWhoвАЩs Ashtaroth?вАЭ Sylvia asked. вАЬAstarte?вАЭ and then: вАЬNow, Father, after your experiences would you say the factory girls of Liverpool, or any other slum, are any better women than us that you used to look after?вАЭ + 

вАЬAstarte Syriaca,вАЭ the Father said, вАЬwas a very powerful devil. ThereвАЩs some that hold sheвАЩs not dead yet. I donвАЩt know that I do myself.вАЭ + 

вАЬWell, IвАЩve done with her,вАЭ Sylvia said. + 

The Father nodded: + 

вАЬYouвАЩve had dealings with Mrs.¬†Profumo?вАЭ he asked. вАЬAnd that loathsome fellow.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ WhatвАЩs his name?вАЭ + 

вАЬDoes it shock you?вАЭ Sylvia asked. вАЬIвАЩll admit it was a bit thick.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But IвАЩve done with it. I prefer to pin my faith to Mrs.¬†Vanderdecken. And, of course, Freud.вАЭ + 

The priest nodded his head and said: + 

вАЬOf course! Of course.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

But Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite exclaimed, with sudden energy: + 

вАЬSylvia Tietjens, I donвАЩt care what you do or what you read, but if you ever speak another word to that woman, you never do to me!вАЭ + 

Sylvia stretched herself on her sofa. She opened her brown eyes wide and let the lids slowly drop again. + 

вАЬIвАЩve said once,вАЭ she said, вАЬthat I donвАЩt like to hear my friends miscalled. Eunice Vanderdecken is a bitterly misjudged woman. SheвАЩs a real good pal.вАЭ + 

вАЬSheвАЩs a Russian spy,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said. + 

вАЬRussian grandmother,вАЭ Sylvia answered. вАЬAnd if she is, who cares? SheвАЩs welcome for me.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Listen now, you two. I said to myself when I came in: вАШI daresay IвАЩve given them both a rotten time.вАЩ I know youвАЩre both more nuts on me than I deserve. And I said IвАЩd sit and listen to all the pi-jaw you wanted to give me if I sat till dawn. And I will. As a return. But IвАЩd rather you let my friends alone.вАЭ + 

Both the elder people were silent. There came from the shuttered windows of the dark room a low, scratching rustle. + 

вАЬYou hear!вАЭ the priest said to Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite. + 

вАЬItвАЩs the branches,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite answered. + 

The Father answered: вАЬThereвАЩs no tree within ten yards! Try bats as an explanation.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩve said I wish you wouldnвАЩt, once,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite shivered. Sylvia said: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know what you two are talking about. It sounds like superstition. MotherвАЩs rotten with it.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt say that itвАЩs devils trying to get in,вАЭ the Father said. вАЬBut itвАЩs just as well to remember that devils are always trying to get in. And there are especial spots. These deep forests are noted among others.вАЭ He suddenly turned his back and pointed at the shadowy wall. вАЬWho,вАЭ he asked, вАЬbut a savage possessed by a devil could have conceived of that as a decoration?вАЭ He was pointing at a life-sized, coarsely daubed picture of a wild boar dying, its throat cut, and gouts of scarlet blood. Other agonies of animals went away into all the shadows. + 

вАЬSport!вАЭ he hissed. вАЬItвАЩs devilry!вАЭ + 

вАЬThatвАЩs perhaps true,вАЭ Sylvia said. Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite was crossing herself with great rapidity. The silence remained. + 

Sylvia said: + 

вАЬThen if youвАЩre both done talking IвАЩll say what I have to say. To begin withвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She stopped and sat rather erect, listening to the rustling from the shutters. + 

вАЬTo begin with,вАЭ she began again with impetus, вАЬyou spared me the catalogue of the defects of age; I know them. One grows skinnyвБ†вАФmy sortвБ†вАФthe complexion fades, the teeth stick out. And then there is the boredom. I know it; one is boredвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ boredвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ bored! You canвАЩt tell me anything I donвАЩt know about that. IвАЩm thirty. I know what to expect. YouвАЩd like to have told me, Father, only you were afraid of taking away from your вАШfamous man of the worldвАЩ effectвБ†вАФyouвАЩd like to have told me that one can insure against the boredom and the long, skinny teeth by love of husband and child. The home stunt! I believe it! I do quite believe it. Only I hate my husbandвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and I hateвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I hate my child.вАЭ + 

She paused, waiting for exclamations of dismay or disapprobation from the priest. These did not come. + 

вАЬThink,вАЭ she said, вАЬof all the ruin that child has meant for me; the pain in bearing him and the fear of death.вАЭ + 

вАЬOf course,вАЭ the priest said, вАЬchildbearing is for women a very terrible thing.вАЭ + 

вАЬI canвАЩt say,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Tietjens went on, вАЬthat this has been a very decent conversation. You get a girlвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ fresh from open sin, and make her talk about it. Of course youвАЩre a priest and motherвАЩs mother; weвАЩre en famille. But Sister Mary of the Cross at the convent had a maxim: вАШWear velvet gloves in family life.вАЩ We seem to be going at it with the gloves off.вАЭ + 

Father Consett still didnвАЩt say anything. + 

вАЬYouвАЩre trying, of course, to draw me,вАЭ Sylvia said. вАЬI can see that with half an eye.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Very well then, you shall.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She drew a breath. + 

вАЬYou want to know why I hate my husband. IвАЩll tell you; itвАЩs because of his simple, sheer immorality. I donвАЩt mean his actions; his views! Every speech he utters about everything makes meвБ†вАФI swear it makes meвБ†вАФin spite of myself, want to stick a knife into him, and I canвАЩt prove heвАЩs wrong, not ever, about the simplest thing. I can pain him. And I will.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He sits about in chairs that fit his back, clumsy, like a rock, not moving for hours.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And I can make him wince. Oh, without showing it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ HeвАЩs what you callвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ oh, loyal.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ThereвАЩs an absurd little chit of a fellowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ oh, MacmasterвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and his motherвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ whom he persists in a silly, mystical way in calling a saintвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a Protestant saint!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And his old nurse, who looks after his childвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and the child itself.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I tell you IвАЩve only got to raise an eyelidвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ yes, cock an eyelid up a little when anyone of them is mentionedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and it hurts him dreadfully. His eyes roll in a sort of mute anguish.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Of course he doesnвАЩt say anything. HeвАЩs an English country gentleman.вАЭ + 

Father Consett said: + 

вАЬThis immorality you talk about in your husband.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve never noticed it. I saw a good deal of him when I stayed with you for the week before your child was born. I talked with him a great deal. Except in matters of the two communionsвБ†вАФand even in these I donвАЩt know that we differed so muchвБ†вАФI found him perfectly sound.вАЭ + 

вАЬSound!вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said with sudden emphasis; вАЬof course heвАЩs sound. It isnвАЩt even the word. HeвАЩs the best ever. There was your father, for a good manвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and him. ThatвАЩs an end of it.вАЭ + 

вАЬAh,вАЭ Sylvia said, вАЬyou donвАЩt know.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Look here. Try and be just. Suppose IвАЩm looking at the Times at breakfast and say, not having spoken to him for a week: вАШItвАЩs wonderful what the doctors are doing. Have you seen the latest?вАЩ And at once heвАЩll be on his high horseвБ†вАФhe knows everything!вБ†вАФand heвАЩll proveвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ proveвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that all unhealthy children must be lethal-chambered or the world will go to pieces. And itвАЩs like being hypnotised; you canвАЩt think of what to answer him. Or heвАЩll reduce you to speechless rage by proving that murderers ought not to be executed. And then IвАЩll ask, casually, if children ought to be lethal-chambered for being constipated. Because MarchantвБ†вАФthatвАЩs the nurseвБ†вАФis always whining that the childвАЩs bowels arenвАЩt regular and the dreadful diseases that leads to. Of course that hurts him. For heвАЩs perfectly soppy about that child, though he half knows it isnвАЩt his own.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But thatвАЩs what I mean by immorality. HeвАЩll profess that murderers ought to be preserved in order to breed from because theyвАЩre bold fellows, and innocent little children executed because theyвАЩre sickвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And heвАЩll almost make you believe it, though youвАЩre on the point of retching at the ideas.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou wouldnвАЩt now,вАЭ Father Consett began, and almost coaxingly, вАЬthink of going into retreat for a month or two.вАЭ + 

вАЬI wouldnвАЩt,вАЭ Sylvia said. вАЬHow could I?вАЭ + 

вАЬThereвАЩs a convent of female Premonstratensians near Birkenhead, many ladies go there,вАЭ the Father went on. вАЬThey cook very well, and you can have your own furniture and your own maid if ye donвАЩt like nuns to wait on you.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt canвАЩt be done,вАЭ Sylvia said, вАЬyou can see for yourself. It would make people smell a rat at once. Christopher wouldnвАЩt hear of it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬNo, IвАЩm afraid it canвАЩt be done, Father,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite interrupted finally. вАЬIвАЩve hidden here for four months to cover SylviaвАЩs tracks. IвАЩve got WatemanвАЩs to look after. My new land stewardвАЩs coming in next week.вАЭ + 

вАЬStill,вАЭ the Father urged, with a sort of tremulous eagerness, вАЬif only for a month.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ If only for a fortnight.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ So many Catholic ladies do it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Ye might think of it.вАЭ + 

вАЬI see what youвАЩre aiming at,вАЭ Sylvia said with sudden anger; вАЬyouвАЩre revolted at the idea of my going straight from one manвАЩs arms to another.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩd be better pleased if there could be an interval,вАЭ the Father said. вАЬItвАЩs whatвАЩs called bad form.вАЭ + 

Sylvia became electrically rigid on her sofa. + 

вАЬBad form!вАЭ she exclaimed. вАЬYou accuse me of bad form.вАЭ + 

The Father slightly bowed his head like a man facing a wind. + 

вАЬI do,вАЭ he said. вАЬItвАЩs disgraceful. ItвАЩs unnatural. IвАЩd travel a bit at least.вАЭ + 

She placed her hand on her long throat. + 

вАЬI know what you mean,вАЭ she said, вАЬyou want to spare ChristopherвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the humiliation. TheвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the nausea. No doubt heвАЩll feel nauseated. IвАЩve reckoned on that. It will give me a little of my own back.вАЭ + 

The Father said: + 

вАЬThatвАЩs enough, woman. IвАЩll hear no more.вАЭ + 

Sylvia said: + 

вАЬYou will then. Listen here.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve always got this to look forward to: IвАЩll settle down by that manвАЩs side. IвАЩll be as virtuous as any woman. IвАЩve made up my mind to it and IвАЩll be it. And IвАЩll be bored stiff for the rest of my life. Except for one thing. I can torment that man. And IвАЩll do it. Do you understand how IвАЩll do it? There are many ways. But if the worst comes to the worst, I can always drive him sillyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ by corrupting the child!вАЭ She was panting a little, and round her brown eyes the whites showed. вАЬIвАЩll get even with him. I can. I know how, you see. And with you, through him, for tormenting me. IвАЩve come all the way from Brittany without stopping. I havenвАЩt slept.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But I canвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Father Consett put his hand beneath the tail of his coat. + 

вАЬSylvia Tietjens,вАЭ he said, вАЬin my pistol pocket IвАЩve a little bottle of holy water which I carry for such occasions. What if I was to throw two drops of it over you and cry: Exorciso te Ashtaroth in nomine?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She erected her body above her skirts on the sofa, stiffened like a snakeвАЩs neck above its coils. Her face was quite pallid, her eyes staring out. + 

вАЬYouвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ you darenвАЩt,вАЭ she said. вАЬTo meвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ an outrage!вАЭ Her feet slid slowly to the floor; she measured the distance to the doorway with her eyes. вАЬYou darenвАЩt,вАЭ she said again; вАЬIвАЩd denounce you to the Bishop.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs little the Bishop would help you with them burning into your skin,вАЭ the priest said. вАЬGo away, I bid you, and say a Hail Mary or two. Ye need them. YeвАЩll not talk of corrupting a little child before me again.вАЭ + 

вАЬI wonвАЩt,вАЭ Sylvia said. вАЬI shouldnвАЩt haveвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Her black figure showed in silhouette against the open doorway. + 

When the door was closed upon them, Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said: + 

вАЬWas it necessary to threaten her with that? You know best, of course. It seems rather strong to me.вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs a hair from the dog thatвАЩs bit her,вАЭ the priest said. вАЬSheвАЩs a silly girl. SheвАЩs been playing at black masses along with that Mrs.¬†Profumo and the fellow whoвАЩs name I canвАЩt remember. You could tell that. They cut the throat of a white kid and splash its blood about.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ That was at the back of her mind.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs not very serious. A parcel of silly, idle girls. ItвАЩs not much more than palmistry or fortune-telling to them if one has to weigh it, for all its ugliness, as a sin. As far as their volition goes, and itвАЩs volition thatвАЩs the essence of prayer, black or white.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But it was at the back of her mind, and she wonвАЩt forget tonight.вАЭ + 

вАЬOf course, thatвАЩs your affair, Father,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said lazily. вАЬYou hit her pretty hard. I donвАЩt suppose sheвАЩs ever been hit so hard. What was it you wouldnвАЩt tell her?вАЭ + 

вАЬOnly,вАЭ the priest said, вАЬI wouldnвАЩt tell her because the thoughtвАЩs best not put in her head.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But her hell on earth will come when her husband goes running, blind, head down, mad after another woman.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite looked at nothing; then she nodded. + 

вАЬYes,вАЭ she said; вАЬI hadnвАЩt thought of it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But will he? He is a very sound fellow, isnвАЩt he?вАЭ + 

вАЬWhatвАЩs to stop it?вАЭ the priest asked. вАЬWhat in the world but the grace of our blessed Lord, which he hasnвАЩt got and doesnвАЩt ask for? And thenвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ HeвАЩs a young man, full-blooded, and they wonвАЩt be livingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ maritalement. Not if I know him. And then.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Then sheвАЩll tear the house down. The world will echo with her wrongs.вАЭ + 

вАЬDo you mean to say,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite said, вАЬthat Sylvia would do anything vulgar?вАЭ + 

вАЬDoesnвАЩt every woman whoвАЩs had a man to torture for years when she loses him?вАЭ the priest asked. вАЬThe more sheвАЩs made an occupation of torturing him the less right she thinks she has to lose him.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite looked gloomily into the dusk. + 

вАЬThat poor devil.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ she said. вАЬWill he get any peace anywhere?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ WhatвАЩs the matter, Father?вАЭ + 

The Father said: + 

вАЬIвАЩve just remembered she gave me tea and cream and I drank it. Now I canвАЩt take mass for Father Reinhardt. IвАЩll have to go and knock up his curate, who lives away in the forest.вАЭ + 

At the door, holding the candle, he said: + 

вАЬIвАЩd have you not get up today nor yet tomorrow, if ye can stand it. Have a headache and let Sylvia nurse youвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ YouвАЩll have to tell how she nursed you when you get back to London. And IвАЩd rather ye didnвАЩt lie more out and out than ye need, if itвАЩs to please me.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Besides, if ye watch Sylvia nursing you, you might hit on a characteristic touch to make it seem more truthful.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ How her sleeves brushed the medicine bottles and irritated you, maybeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ orвБ†вАФyouвАЩll know! If we can save scandal to the congregation, we may as well.вАЭ + 

He ran downstairs. + 

III + 

At the slight creaking made by Macmaster in pushing open his door, Tietjens started violently. He was sitting in a smoking-jacket, playing patience engrossedly in a sort of garret bedroom. It had a sloping roof outlined by black oak beams, which cut into squares the cream coloured patent distemper of the walls. The room contained also a four-post bedstead, a corner cupboard in black oak, and many rush mats on a polished oak floor of very irregular planking. Tietjens, who hated these disinterred and waxed relics of the past, sat in the centre of the room at a flimsy card-table beneath a white-shaded electric light of a brilliance that, in those surroundings, appeared unreasonable. This was one of those restored old groups of cottages that it was at that date the fashion to convert into hostelries. To it Macmaster, who was in search of the inspiration of the past, had preferred to come. Tietjens, not desiring to interfere with his friendвАЩs culture, had accepted the quarters, though he would have preferred to go to a comfortable modern hotel as being less affected and cheaper. Accustomed to what he called the grown oldnesses of a morose, rambling Yorkshire manor house, he disliked being among collected and rather pitiful bits which, he said, made him feel ridiculous, as if he were trying to behave seriously at a fancy-dress ball. Macmaster, on the other hand, with gratification and a serious air, would run his fingertips along the bevellings of a darkened piece of furniture, and would declare it genuine вАЬChippendaleвАЭ or вАЬJacobean oak,вАЭ as the case might be. And he seemed to gain an added seriousness and weight of manner with each piece of ancient furniture that down the years he thus touched. But Tietjens would declare that you could tell the beastly thing was a fake by just cocking an eye at it and, if the matter happened to fall under the test of professional dealers in old furniture, Tietjens was the more often in the right of it, and Macmaster, sighing slightly, would prepare to proceed still further along the difficult road to connoisseurship. Eventually, by conscientious study, he got so far as at times to be called in by Somerset House to value great properties for probateвБ†вАФan occupation at once distinguished and highly profitable. + 

Tietjens swore with the extreme vehemence of a man who has been made, but who much dislikes being seen, to start. + 

MacmasterвБ†вАФin evening dress he looked extremely miniature!вБ†вАФsaid: + 

вАЬIвАЩm sorry, old man, I know how much you dislike being interrupted. But the General is in a terrible temper.вАЭ + 

Tietjens rose stiffly, lurched over to an eighteenth century rosewood folding washstand, took from its top a glass of flat whisky and soda, and gulped down a large quantity. He looked about uncertainly, perceived a notebook on a вАЬChippendaleвАЭ bureau, made a short calculation in pencil and looked at his friend momentarily. + 

Macmaster said again: + 

вАЬIвАЩm sorry, old man. I must have interrupted one of your immense calculations.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬYou havenвАЩt. I was only thinking. IвАЩm just as glad youвАЩve come. What did you say?вАЭ + 

Macmaster repeated: + 

вАЬI said, General is in a terrible temper. ItвАЩs just as well you didnвАЩt come up to dinner.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬHe isnвАЩtвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He isnвАЩt in a temper. HeвАЩs as pleased as punch at not having to have these women up before him.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬHe says heвАЩs got the police scouring the whole county for them, and that youвАЩd better leave by the first train tomorrow.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬI wonвАЩt. I canвАЩt. IвАЩve got to wait here for a wire from Sylvia.вАЭ + 

Macmaster groaned: + 

вАЬOh dear! Oh dear!вАЭ Then he said hopefully: вАЬBut we could have it forwarded to Hythe.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said with some vehemence: + 

вАЬI tell you I wonвАЩt leave here. I tell you IвАЩve settled it with the police and that swine of a Cabinet Minister. IвАЩve mended the leg of the canary of the wife of the police-constable. Sit down and be reasonable. The police donвАЩt touch people like us.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt believe you realise the public feeling there isвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬOf course I do, amongst people like Sandbach,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬSit down, I tell you.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Have some whisky.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He filled himself out another long tumbler and, holding it, dropped into a too low-seated, reddish wicker armchair that had cretonne fixings. Beneath his weight the chair sagged a good deal and his dress-shirt front bulged up to his chin. + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬWhatвАЩs the matter with you?вАЭ TietjensвАЩ eyes were bloodshot. + 

вАЬI tell you,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬIвАЩm waiting for a wire from Sylvia.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬOh!вАЭ And then: вАЬIt canвАЩt come tonight, itвАЩs getting on for one.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt can,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬIвАЩve fixed it up with the postmasterвБ†вАФall the way up to Town! It probably wonвАЩt come because Sylvia wonвАЩt send it until the last moment, to bother me. None the less IвАЩm waiting for a wire from Sylvia, and this is what I look like.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬThat womanвАЩs the cruellest beastвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou might,вАЭ Tietjens interrupted, вАЬremember that youвАЩre talking about my wife.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt see,вАЭ Macmaster said, вАЬhow one can talk about Sylvia withoutвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬThe line is a perfectly simple one to draw,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬYou can relate a ladyвАЩs actions if you know them and are asked to. You mustnвАЩt comment. In this case you donвАЩt know the ladyвАЩs actions even, so you may as well hold your tongue.вАЭ He sat looking straight in front of him. + 

Macmaster sighed from deep in his chest. He asked himself if this was what sixteen hours waiting had done for his friend, what were all the remaining hours going to do? + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬI shall be fit to talk about Sylvia after two more whiskies.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ LetвАЩs settle your other perturbations first.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The fair girl is called Wannop: Valentine Wannop.вАЭ + 

вАЬThatвАЩs the ProfessorвАЩs name,вАЭ Macmaster said. + 

вАЬSheвАЩs the late Professor WannopвАЩs daughter,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬSheвАЩs also the daughter of the novelist.вАЭ + 

Macmaster interjected: + 

вАЬButвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬShe supported herself for a year after the ProfessorвАЩs death as a domestic servant,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬNow sheвАЩs housemaid for her mother, the novelist, in an inexpensive cottage. I should imagine the two experiences would make her desire to better the lot of her sex.вАЭ + 

Macmaster again interjected a вАЬButвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬI got that information from the policeman whilst I was putting his wifeвАЩs canaryвАЩs leg in splints.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬThe policeman you knocked down?вАЭ His eyes expressed unreasoning surprise. He added: вАЬHe knew MissвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ehвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Wannop then!вАЭ + 

вАЬYou would not expect much intelligence from the police of Sussex,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬBut you would be wrong. P.C. Finn is clever enough to recognise the young lady who for several years past has managed the constabularyвАЩs wivesвАЩ and childrenвАЩs annual tea and sports. He says Miss Wannop holds the quarter-mile, half-mile, high jump, long jump and putting the weight records for East Sussex. That explains how she went over that dyke in such tidy style.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And precious glad the good, simple man was when I told him he was to leave the girl alone. He didnвАЩt know, he said, how heвАЩd ever a had the face to serve the warrant on Miss Wannop. The other girlвБ†вАФthe one that squeakedвБ†вАФis a stranger, a Londoner probably.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬYou told the policemanвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬI gave him,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬthe Rt. Hon.¬†Stephen Fenick WaterhouseвАЩs compliments, and heвАЩd be much obliged if the P.C. would hand in a вАШNo Can DoвАЩ report in the matter of those ladies every morning to his inspector. I gave him also a brand new fiвАЩ pun noteвБ†вАФfrom the Cabinet MinisterвБ†вАФand a couple of quid and the price of a new pair of trousers from myself. So heвАЩs the happiest constable in Sussex. A very decent fellow; he told me how to know a dog otterвАЩs spoor from a gravid bitchвАЩs.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But that wouldnвАЩt interest you.вАЭ + 

He began again: + 

вАЬDonвАЩt look so inexpressibly foolish. I told you IвАЩd been dining with that swine.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ No, I oughtnвАЩt to call him a swine after eating his dinner. Besides, heвАЩs a very decent fellow.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou didnвАЩt tell me youвАЩd been dining with Mr.¬†Waterhouse,вАЭ Macmaster said. вАЬI hope you remembered that, as heвАЩs amongst other things the President of the Funded Debt Commission heвАЩs the power of life and death over the department and us.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou didnвАЩt think,вАЭ Tietjens answered, вАЬthat you are the only one to dine with the great ones of the earth! I wanted to talk to that fellowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ about those figures their cursed crowd made me fake. I meant to give him a bit of my mind.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou didnвАЩt!вАЭ Macmaster said with an expression of panic. вАЬBesides, they didnвАЩt ask you to fake the calculation. They only asked you to work it out on the basis of given figures.вАЭ + 

вАЬAnyhow,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬI gave him a bit of my mind. I told him that, at threepence, it must run the countryвБ†вАФand certainly himself as a politician!вБ†вАФto absolute ruin.вАЭ + 

Macmaster uttered a deep вАЬGood Lord!вАЭ and then: вАЬBut wonвАЩt you ever remember youвАЩre a Government servant? He couldвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬMr.¬†Waterhouse,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬasked me if I wouldnвАЩt consent to be transferred to his secretaryвАЩs department. And when I said: вАШGo to hell!вАЩ he walked round the streets with me for two hours arguing.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I was working out the chances on a 4¬љd. basis for him when you interrupted me. IвАЩve promised to let him have the figures when he goes up by the 1:30 on Monday.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬYou havenвАЩt.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But by Jove youвАЩre the only man in England that could do it.вАЭ + 

вАЬThat was what Mr.¬†Waterhouse said,вАЭ Tietjens commented. вАЬHe said old Ingleby had told him so.вАЭ + 

вАЬI do hope,вАЭ Macmaster said, вАЬthat you answered him politely!вАЭ + 

вАЬI told him,вАЭ Tietjens answered, вАЬthat there were a dozen men who could do it as well as I, and I mentioned your name in particular.вАЭ + 

вАЬBut I couldnвАЩt,вАЭ Macmaster answered. вАЬOf course I could convert a 3d. rate into 4¬љd. But these are the actuarial variations; theyвАЩre infinite. I couldnвАЩt touch them.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said negligently: вАЬI donвАЩt want my name mixed up in the unspeakable affair. When I give him the papers on Monday I shall tell him you did most of the work.вАЭ + 

Again Macmaster groaned. + 

Nor was this distress mere altruism. Immensely ambitious for his brilliant friend, MacmasterвАЩs ambition was one ingredient of his strong desire for security. At Cambridge he had been perfectly content with a moderate, quite respectable place on the list of mathematical postulants. He knew that that made him safe, and he had still more satisfaction in the thought that it would warrant him in never being brilliant in after life. But when Tietjens, two years after, had come out as a mere Second Wrangler, Macmaster had been bitterly and loudly disappointed. He knew perfectly well that Tietjens simply hadnвАЩt taken trouble; and, ten chances to one, it was on purpose that Tietjens hadnвАЩt taken trouble. For the matter of that, for Tietjens it wouldnвАЩt have been trouble. + 

And, indeed, to MacmasterвАЩs upbraidings, which Macmaster hadnвАЩt spared him, Tietjens had answered that he hadnвАЩt been able to think of going through the rest of his life with a beastly placard like Senior Wrangler hung round his neck. + 

But Macmaster had early made up his mind that life for him would be safest if he could go about, not very much observed but still an authority, in the midst of a body of men all labelled. He wanted to walk down Pall Mall on the arm, precisely, of a largely-lettered Senior Wrangler; to return eastward on the arm of the youngest Lord Chancellor England had ever seen; to stroll down Whitehall in familiar converse with a world-famous novelist, saluting on the way a majority of My Lords Commissioners of the Treasury. And, after tea, for an hour at the club all these, in a little group, should treat him with the courtesy of men who respected him for his soundness. Then he would be safe. + 

And he had no doubt that Tietjens was the most brilliant man in England of that day, so that nothing caused him more anguish than the thought that Tietjens might not make a brilliant and rapid career towards some illustrious position in the public services. He would very willinglyвБ†вАФhe desired, indeed, nothing better!вБ†вАФhave seen Tietjens pass over his own head! It did not seem to him a condemnation of the public services that this appeared to be unlikely. + 

Yet Macmaster was still not without hope. He was quite aware that there are other techniques of careers than that which he had prescribed for himself. He could not imagine himself, even in the most deferential way, correcting a superior; yet he could see that, though Tietjens treated almost every hierarch as if he were a born fool, no one very much resented it. Of course Tietjens was a Tietjens of Groby; but was that going to be enough to live on forever? Times were changing, and Macmaster imagined this to be a democratic age. + 

But Tietjens went on, with both hands as it were, throwing away opportunity and committing outrage.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

That day Macmaster could only consider to be one of disaster. He got up from his chair and filled himself another drink; he felt himself to be distressed and to need it. Slouching amongst his cretonnes, Tietjens was gazing in front of him. He said: + 

вАЬHere!вАЭ without looking at Macmaster, and held out his long glass. Into it Macmaster poured whisky with a hesitating hand. Tietjens said: вАЬGo on!вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬItвАЩs late; weвАЩre breakfasting at the DucheminвАЩs at ten.вАЭ + 

Tietjens answered: + 

вАЬDonвАЩt worry, sonny. WeвАЩll be there for your pretty lady.вАЭ He added: вАЬWait another quarter of an hour. I want to talk to you.вАЭ + 

Macmaster sat down again and deliberately began to review the day. It had begun with disaster, and in disaster it had continued. + 

And, with something like a bitter irony, Macmaster remembered and brought up now for digestion the parting words of General Campion to himself. The General had limped with him to the hall door up at Mountsby and, standing patting him on the shoulder, tall, slightly bent and very friendly, had said: + 

вАЬLook here. Christopher Tietjens is a splendid fellow. But he needs a good woman to look after him. Get him back to Sylvia as quick as you can. Had a little tiff, havenвАЩt they? Nothing serious? Chrissie hasnвАЩt been running after the skirts? No? I daresay a little. No? Well thenвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Macmaster had stood like a gatepost, so appalled. He had stuttered: + 

вАЬNo! No!вАЭ + 

вАЬWeвАЩve known them both so long,вАЭ the General went on. вАЬLady Claudine in particular. And, believe me, Sylvia is a splendid girl. Straight as a die; the soul of loyalty to her friends. And fearless.вБ†вАФSheвАЩd face the devil in his rage. You should have seen her out with the Belvoir! Of course you know her.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Well then!вАЭ + 

Macmaster had just managed to say that he knew Sylvia, of course. + 

вАЬWell thenвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ the General had continuedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАЬyouвАЩll agree with me that if there is anything wrong between them heвАЩs to blame. And it will be resented. Very bitterly. He wouldnвАЩt set foot in this house again. But he says heвАЩs going out to her and Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬI believeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Macmaster had begunвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАЬI believe he isвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬWell then!вАЭ the General had said: вАЬItвАЩs all right.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But Christopher Tietjens needs a good womanвАЩs backing.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ HeвАЩs a splendid fellow. There are few young fellows for whom I have moreвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I could almost say respect.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But he needs that. To ballast him.вАЭ + 

In the car, running down the hill from Mountby, Macmaster had exhausted himself in the effort to restrain his execrations of the General. He wanted to shout that he was a pigheaded old fool: a meddlesome ass. But he was in the car with the two secretaries of the Cabinet Minister: the Rt. Hon.¬†Edward Fenwick Waterhouse, who, being himself an advanced Liberal down for a weekend of golf, preferred not to dine at the house of the Conservative member. At that date there was, in politics, a phase of bitter social feud between the parties: a condition that had not till lately been characteristic of English political life. The prohibition had not extended itself to the two younger men. + 

Macmaster was not unpleasurably aware that these two fellows treated him with a certain deference. They had seen Macmaster being talked to familiarly by General Lord Edward Campion. Indeed, they and the car had been kept waiting whilst the General patted their fellow guest on the shoulder; held his upper arm and spoke in a low voice into his ear.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

But that was the only pleasure that Macmaster got out of it. + 

Yes, the day had begun disastrously with SylviaвАЩs letter; it endedвБ†вАФif it was ended!вБ†вАФalmost more disastrously with the GeneralвАЩs eulogy of that woman. During the day he had nerved himself to having an immensely disagreeable scene with Tietjens. Tietjens must divorce the woman; it was necessary for the peace of mind of himself, of his friends, of his family; for the sake of his career; in the very name of decency! + 

In the meantime Tietjens had rather forced his hand. It had been a most disagreeable affair. They had arrived at Rye in time for lunchвБ†вАФat which Tietjens had consumed the best part of a bottle of Burgundy. During lunch Tietjens had given Macmaster SylviaвАЩs letter to read, saying that, as he should later consult his friend, his friend had better be made acquainted with the document. + 

The letter had appeared extraordinary in its effrontery, for it said nothing. Beyond the bare statement, вАЬI am now ready to return to you,вАЭ it occupied itself simply with the fact that Mrs.¬†Tietjens wantedвБ†вАФcould no longer get on withoutвБ†вАФthe services of her maid, whom she called Hullo Central. If Tietjens wanted her, Mrs.¬†Tietjens, to return to him he was to see that Hullo Central was waiting on the doorstep for her, and so on. She added the detail that there was no one else, underlined, she could bear round her while she was retiring for the night. On reflection Macmaster could see that this was the best letter the woman could have written if she wanted to be taken back; for, had she extended herself into either excuses or explanations, it was ten chances to one Tietjens would have taken the line that he couldnвАЩt go on living with a woman capable of such a lapse in taste. But Macmaster had never thought of Sylvia as wanting in savoir faire. + 

It had none the less hardened him in his determination to urge his friend to divorce. He had intended to begin this campaign in the fly, driving to pay his call on the Rev. Mr.¬†Duchemin, who, in early life, had been a personal disciple of Mr.¬†Ruskin and a patron and acquaintance of the poet-painter, the subject of MacmasterвАЩs monograph. On this drive Tietjens preferred not to come. He said that he would loaf about the town and meet Macmaster at the golf club towards four-thirty. He was not in the mood for making new acquaintances. Macmaster, who knew the pressure under which his friend must be suffering, thought this reasonable enough, and drove off up Iden Hill by himself. + 

Few women had ever made so much impression on Macmaster as Mrs.¬†Duchemin. He knew himself to be in a mood to be impressed by almost any woman, but he considered that that was not enough to account for the very strong influence she at once exercised over him. There had been two young girls in the drawing-room when he had been ushered in, but they had disappeared almost simultaneously, and although he had noticed them immediately afterwards riding past the window on bicycles, he was aware that he would not have recognised them again. From her first words on rising to greet him: вАЬNot the Mr.¬†Macmaster!вАЭ he had had eyes for no one else. + 

It was obvious that the Rev. Mr.¬†Duchemin must be one of those clergymen of considerable wealth and cultured taste who not infrequently adorn the Church of England. The rectory itself, a great, warm-looking manor house of very old red brick, was abutted on to by one of the largest tithe barns that Macmaster had ever seen; the church itself, with a primitive roof of oak shingles, nestled in the corner formed by the ends of rectory and tithe barn, and was by so much the smallest of the three and so undecorated that but for its little belfry it might have been a good cow-byre. All three buildings stood on the very edge of the little row of hills that looks down on the Romney Marsh; they were sheltered from the north wind by a great symmetrical fan of elms and from the southwest by a very tall hedge and shrubbery, all of remarkable yews. It was, in short, an ideal cure of souls for a wealthy clergyman of cultured tastes, for there was not so much as a peasantвАЩs cottage within a mile of it. + 

To Macmaster, in short, this was the ideal English home. Of Mrs.¬†DucheminвАЩs drawing-room itself, contrary to his habit, for he was sensitive and observant in such things, he could afterwards remember little except that it was perfectly sympathetic. Three long windows gave on to a perfect lawn, on which, isolated and grouped, stood standard rose trees, symmetrical half globes of green foliage picked out with flowers like bits of carved pink marble. Beyond the lawn was a low stone wall; beyond that the quiet expanse of the marsh shimmered in the sunlight. + 

The furniture of the room was, as to its woodwork, brown, old, with the rich softnesses of much polishing with beeswax. What pictures there were Macmaster recognised at once as being by Simeon Solomon, one of the weaker and more frail aesthetesвБ†вАФaureoled, palish heads of ladies carrying lilies that were not very like lilies. They were in the traditionвБ†вАФbut not the best of the tradition. Macmaster understoodвБ†вАФand later Mrs.¬†Duchemin confirmed him in the ideaвБ†вАФthat Mr.¬†Duchemin kept his more precious specimens of work in a sanctum, leaving to the relatively public room, good-humouredly and with slight contempt, these weaker specimens. That seemed to stamp Mr.¬†Duchemin at once as being of the elect. + 

Mr.¬†Duchemin in person was, however, not present; and there seemed to be a good deal of difficulty in arranging a meeting between the two men. Mr.¬†Duchemin, his wife said, was much occupied at the weekends. She added, with a faint and rather absent smile, the word, вАЬNaturally.вАЭ Macmaster at once saw that it was natural for a clergyman to be much occupied during the weekends. With a little hesitation Mrs.¬†Duchemin suggested that Mr.¬†Macmaster and his friend might come to lunch on the next dayвБ†вАФSaturday. But Macmaster had made an engagement to play the foursome with General CampionвБ†вАФhalf the round from twelve till one-thirty: half the round from three to half-past four. And, as their then present arrangements stood, Macmaster and Tietjens were to take the 6:30 train to Hythe; that ruled out either tea or dinner next day. + 

With sufficient, but not too extravagant, regret, Mrs.¬†Duchemin raised her voice to say: + 

вАЬOh dear! Oh dear! But you must see my husband and the pictures after you have come so far.вАЭ + 

A rather considerable volume of harsh sound was coming through the end wall of the roomвБ†вАФthe barking of dogs, apparently the hurried removal of pieces of furniture or perhaps of packing cases, guttural ejaculations. Mrs.¬†Duchemin said, with her far away air and deep voice: + 

вАЬThey are making a good deal of noise. Let us go into the garden and look at my husbandвАЩs roses, if youвАЩve a moment more to give us.вАЭ + 

Macmaster quoted to himself: + 

вАЬвАКвАШI looked and saw your eyes in the shadow of your hair.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЩвАКвАЭ + 

There was no doubt that Mrs.¬†DucheminвАЩs eyes, which were of a dark, pebble blue, were actually in the shadow of her blue-black, very regularly waved hair. The hair came down on the square, low forehead. It was a phenomenon that Macmaster had never before really seen, and, he congratulated himself, this was one more confirmationвБ†вАФif confirmation were needed!вБ†вАФof the powers of observation of the subject of his monograph! + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin bore the sunlight! Her dark complexion was clear; there was, over the cheekbones, a delicate suffusion of light carmine. Her jawbone was singularly clear-cut, to the pointed chinвБ†вАФlike an alabaster, medieval saintвАЩs. + 

She said: + 

вАЬOf course youвАЩre Scotch. IвАЩm from Auld Reekie myself.вАЭ + 

Macmaster would have known it. He said he was from the Port of Leith. He could not imagine hiding anything from Mrs.¬†Duchemin. Mrs.¬†Duchemin said with renewed insistence: + 

вАЬOh, but of course you must see my husband and the pictures. Let me see.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ We must think.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Would breakfast now?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Macmaster said that he and his friend were Government servants and up to rising early. He had a great desire to breakfast in that house. She said: + 

вАЬAt a quarter to ten, then, our car will be at the bottom of your street. ItвАЩs a matter of ten minutes only, so you wonвАЩt go hungry long!вАЭ + 

She said, gradually gaining animation, that of course Macmaster would bring his friend. He could tell Tietjens that he should meet a very charming girl. She stopped and added suddenly: вАЬProbably, at any rate.вАЭ She said the name which Macmaster caught as вАЬWanstead.вАЭ And possibly another girl. And Mr.¬†Horsted, or something like it, her husbandвАЩs junior curate. She said reflectively: + 

вАЬYes, we might try quite a partyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ and added, вАЬquite noisy and gay. I hope your friendвАЩs talkative!вАЭ Macmaster said something about trouble. + 

вАЬOh, it canвАЩt be too much trouble,вАЭ she said. вАЬBesides, it might do my husband good.вАЭ She went on: вАЬMr.¬†Duchemin is apt to brood. ItвАЩs perhaps too lonely here.вАЭ And added the rather astonishing words: вАЬAfter all.вАЭ + 

And, driving back in the fly, Macmaster said to himself that you couldnвАЩt call Mrs.¬†Duchemin ordinary, at least. Yet meeting her was like going into a room that you had long left and never ceased to love. It felt good. It was perhaps partly her Edinburgh-ness. Macmaster allowed himself to coin that word. There was in Edinburgh a societyвБ†вАФhe himself had never been privileged to move in it, but its annals are part of the literature of Scotland!вБ†вАФwhere the ladies are all great ladies in tall drawing-rooms; circumspect yet shrewd: still yet with a sense of the comic: frugal yet warmly hospitable. It was perhaps just Edinburgh-ness that was wanting in the drawing-rooms of his friends in London. Mrs.¬†Cressy, the Hon.¬†Mrs.¬†Limoux and Mrs.¬†Delawnay were all almost perfection in manner, in speech, in composure. But, then, they were not young, they werenвАЩt EdinburghвБ†вАФand they werenвАЩt strikingly elegant! + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin was all three! Her assured, tranquil manner she would retain to any age: it betokened the enigmatic soul of her sex, but, physically, she couldnвАЩt be more than thirty. That was unimportant, for she would never want to do anything in which physical youth counted. She would never, for instance, have occasion to run: she would always just вАЬmoveвАЭвБ†вАФfloatingly! He tried to remember the details of her dress. + 

It had certainly been dark blueвБ†вАФand certainly of silk: that rather coarsely-woven, exquisite material that has on its folds as of a silvery shimmer with minute knots. But very dark blue. And it contrived to be at once artisticвБ†вАФabsolutely in the tradition! And yet well cut! Very large sleeves, of course, but still with a certain fit. She had worn an immense necklace of yellow polished amber: on the dark blue! And Mrs.¬†Duchemin had said, over her husbandвАЩs roses, that the blossoms always reminded her of little mouldings of pink cloud come down for the cooling of the earth.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A charming thought! + 

Suddenly he said to himself: + 

вАЬWhat a mate for Tietjens!вАЭ And his mind added: вАЬWhy should she not become an Influence!вАЭ + 

A vista opened before him, in time! He imagined Tietjens, in some way proprietarily responsible for Mrs.¬†Duchemin: quite pour le bon, tranquilly passionate and accepted, motif; and вАЬimmensely improvedвАЭ by the association. And himself, in a year or two, bringing the at last found Lady of his Delight to sit at the feet of Mrs.¬†DucheminвБ†вАФthe Lady of his Delight whilst circumspect would be also young and impressionable!вБ†вАФto learn the mysterious assuredness of manner, the gift of dressing, the knack of wearing amber and bending over standard rosesвБ†вАФand the Edinburgh-ness! + 

Macmaster was thus not a little excited, and finding Tietjens at tea amid the green-stained furnishings and illustrated papers of the large, corrugated iron golf-house, he could not help exclaiming: + 

вАЬIвАЩve accepted the invitation to breakfast with the Duchemins tomorrow for us both. I hope you wonвАЩt mind,вАЭ although Tietjens was sitting at a little table with General Campion and his brother-in-law, the Hon.¬†Paul Sandbach, Conservative member for the division and husband of Lady Claudine. The General said pleasantly to Tietjens: + 

вАЬBreakfast! With Duchemin! You go, my boy! YouвАЩll get the best breakfast you ever had in your life.вАЭ + 

He added to his brother-in-law: вАЬNot the eternal mock kedgeree Claudine gives us every morning.вАЭ + 

Sandbach grunted: + 

вАЬItвАЩs not for want of trying to steal their cook. Claudine has a shy at it every time we come down here.вАЭ + 

The General said pleasantly to MacmasterвБ†вАФhe spoke always pleasantly, with a half smile and a slight sibilance: + 

вАЬMy brother-in-law isnвАЩt serious, you understand. My sister wouldnвАЩt think of stealing a cook. Let alone from Duchemin. SheвАЩd be frightened to.вАЭ + 

Sandbach grunted: + 

вАЬWho wouldnвАЩt?вАЭ + 

Both these gentlemen were very lame: Mr.¬†Sandbach from birth and the General as the result of a slight but neglected motor accident. He had practically only one vanity, the belief that he was qualified to act as his own chauffeur, and since he was both inexpert and very careless, he met with frequent accidents. Mr.¬†Sandbach had a dark, round, bulldog face and a violent manner. He had twice been suspended from his Parliamentary duties for applying to the then Chancellor of the Exchequer the epithet вАЬlying attorney,вАЭ and he was at that moment still suspended. + 

Macmaster then became unpleasantly perturbed. With his sensitiveness he was perfectly aware of an unpleasant chill in the air. There was also a stiffness about TietjensвАЩ eyes. He was looking straight before him; there was a silence too. Behind TietjensвАЩ back were two men with bright green coats, red knitted waistcoats and florid faces. One was bald and blonde, the other had black hair, remarkably oiled and shiny; both were forty-fivish. They were regarding the occupants of the TietjensвАЩ table with both their mouths slightly open. They were undisguisedly listening. In front of each were three empty sloe-gin glasses and one half-filled tumbler of brandy and soda. Macmaster understood why the General had explained that his sister had not tried to steal Mrs.¬†DucheminвАЩs cook. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬDrink up your tea quickly and letвАЩs get started.вАЭ He was drawing from his pocket a number of telegraph forms which he began arranging. The General said: + 

вАЬDonвАЩt burn your mouth. We canвАЩt start off before allвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ all these other gentlemen. WeвАЩre too slow.вАЭ + 

вАЬNo; weвАЩre beastly well stuck,вАЭ Sandbach said. + 

Tietjens handed the telegraph forms over to Macmaster. + 

вАЬYouвАЩd better take a look at these,вАЭ he said. вАЬI maynвАЩt see you again today after the match. YouвАЩre dining up at Mountby. The General will run you up. Lady Claude will excuse me. IвАЩve got work to do.вАЭ + 

This was already matter for dismay for Macmaster. He was aware that Tietjens would have disliked dining up at Mountby with the Sandbachs, who would have a crowd, extremely smart but more than usually unintelligent. Tietjens called this crowd, indeed, the plague-spot of the partyвБ†вАФmeaning of Toryism. But Macmaster couldnвАЩt help thinking that a disagreeable dinner would be better for his friend than brooding in solitude in the black shadows of the huddled town. Then Tietjens said: + 

вАЬIвАЩm going to have a word with that swine!вАЭ He pointed his square chin rather rigidly before him, and looking past the two brandy drinkers, Macmaster saw one of those faces that frequent caricature made familiar and yet strange. Macmaster couldnвАЩt, at the moment, put a name to it. It must be a politician, probably a Minister. But which? His mind was already in a dreadful state. In the glimpse he had caught of the telegraph form now in his hand he had perceived that it was addressed to Sylvia Tietjens and began with the word вАЬagreed.вАЭ He said swiftly: + 

вАЬHas that been sent or is it only a draft?вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬThat fellow is the Rt. Hon.¬†Stephen Fenwick Waterhouse. HeвАЩs chairman of the Funded Debt Commission. HeвАЩs the swine who made us fake that return in the office.вАЭ + 

That moment was the worst Macmaster had ever known. A worse came. Tietjens said: + 

вАЬIвАЩm going to have a word with him. ThatвАЩs why IвАЩm not dining at Mountby. ItвАЩs a duty to the country.вАЭ + 

MacmasterвАЩs mind simply stopped. He was in a space, all windows. There was sunlight outside. And clouds. Pink and white. Woolly! Some ships. And two men: one dark and oily, the other rather blotchy on a blonde baldness. They were talking, but their words made no impression on Macmaster. The dark, oily man said that he was not going to take Gertie to Budapest. Not half! He winked like a nightmare. Beyond were two young men and a preposterous face.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It was all so like a nightmare that the Cabinet MinisterвАЩs features were distorted for Macmaster. Like an enormous mask of pantomime: shiny, with an immense nose and elongated, Chinese eyes. + 

Yet not unpleasant! Macmaster was a Whig by conviction, by nation, by temperament. He thought that public servants should abstain from political activity. Nevertheless, he couldnвАЩt be expected to think a Liberal Cabinet Minister ugly. On the contrary, Mr.¬†Waterhouse appeared to have a frank, humorous, kindly expression. He listened deferentially to one of his secretaries, resting his hand on the young manвАЩs shoulder, smiling a little, rather sleepily. No doubt he was overworked. And then, letting himself go in a side-shaking laugh. Putting on flesh! + 

What a pity! What a pity! Macmaster was reading a string of incomprehensible words in TietjensвАЩ heavily scored writing. Not entertainвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ flat not houseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ child remain at sister.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ His eyes went backwards and forwards over the phrases. He could not connect the words without stops. The man with the oily hair said in a sickly voice that Gertie was hot stuff, but not the one for Budapest with all the Gitana girls you were telling me of! Why, heвАЩd kept Gertie for five years now. More like the real thing! His friendвАЩs voice was like a result of indigestion. Tietjens, Sandbach and the General were stiff, like pokers. + 

What a pity! Macmaster thought. + 

He ought to have been sitting.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It would have been pleasant and right to be sitting with the pleasant Minister. In the ordinary course he, Macmaster, would have been. The best golfer in the place was usually set to play with distinguished visitors, and there was next to no one in the south of England who ordinarily could beat him. He had begun at four, playing with a miniature cleek and a found shilling ball over the municipal links. Going to the poor school every morning and back to dinner; and back to school and back to bed! Over the cold, rushy, sandy links, beside the grey sea. Both shoes full of sand. The found shilling ball had lasted him three years.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Macmaster exclaimed: вАЬGood God!вАЭ He had just gathered from the telegram that Tietjens meant to go to Germany on Tuesday. As if at MacmasterвАЩs ejaculation Tietjens said: + 

вАЬYes. It is unbearable. If you donвАЩt stop those swine, General, I shall.вАЭ + 

The General sibilated low, between his teeth: + 

вАЬWait a minute.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Wait a minute.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Perhaps that other fellow will.вАЭ + 

The man with the black oily hair said: + 

вАЬIf BudapestвАЩs the place for the girls you say it is, old pal, with the Turkish baths and all, weвАЩll paint the old town red all right, next month,вАЭ and he winked at Tietjens. His friend, with his head down, seemed to make internal rumblings, looking apprehensively beneath his blotched forehead at the General. + 

вАЬNot,вАЭ the other continued argumentatively, вАЬthat I donвАЩt love my old woman. SheвАЩs all right. And then thereвАЩs Gertie. вАЩOt stuff, but the real thing. But I say a man wantsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He ejaculated, вАЬOh!вАЭ + 

The General, his hands in his pockets, very tall, thin, red-cheeked, his white hair combed forward in a fringe, sauntered towards the other table. It was not two yards, but it seemed a long saunter. He stood right over them, they looking up, open-eyed, like schoolboys at a balloon. He said: + 

вАЬIвАЩm glad youвАЩre enjoying our links, gentlemen.вАЭ + 

The bald man said: вАЬWe are! We are! First-class. A treat!вАЭ + 

вАЬBut,вАЭ the General said, вАЬit isnвАЩt wise to discuss oneвАЩsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ehвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ domestic circumstancesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ atвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ at mess, you know, or in a golf house. People might hear.вАЭ + 

The gentleman with the oily hair rose and exclaimed: + 

вАЬOo, theвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The other man mumbled: вАЬShut up, Briggs.вАЭ + 

The General said: + 

вАЬIвАЩm the president of the club, you know. ItвАЩs my duty to see that the majority of the club and its visitors are pleased. I hope you donвАЩt mind.вАЭ + 

The General came back to his seat. He was trembling with vexation. + 

вАЬIt makes one as beastly a bounder as themselves,вАЭ he said. вАЬBut what the devil else was one to do?вАЭ The two city men had ambled hastily into the dressing-rooms; the dire silence fell. Macmaster realised that, for these Tories at least, this was really the end of the world. The last of England! He returned, with panic in his heart, to TietjensвАЩ telegram.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Tietjens was going to Germany on Tuesday. He offered to throw over the department.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ These were unthinkable things. You couldnвАЩt imagine them! + 

He began to read the telegram all over again. A shadow fell upon the flimsy sheets. The Rt. Hon.¬†Mr.¬†Waterhouse was between the head of the table and the windows. He said: + 

вАЬWeвАЩre much obliged, General. It was impossible to hear ourselves speak for those obscene fellowsвАЩ smut. ItвАЩs fellows like that that make our friends the suffragettes! That warrants them.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He added: вАЬHullo! Sandbach! Enjoying your rest?вАЭ + 

The General said: + 

вАЬI was hoping youвАЩd take on the job of telling these fellows off.вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Sandbach, his bulldog jaw sticking out, the short black hair on his scalp appearing to rise, barked: + 

вАЬHullo, Waterslop! Enjoying your plunder?вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Waterhouse, tall, slouching and untidy-haired, lifted the flaps of his coat. It was so ragged that it appeared as if straws stuck out of the elbows. + 

вАЬAll that the suffragettes have left of me,вАЭ he said, laughingly. вАЬIsnвАЩt one of you fellows a genius called Tietjens?вАЭ He was looking at Macmaster. The General said: + 

вАЬTietjensвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ MacmasterвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ The Minister went on very friendly: + 

вАЬOh, itвАЩs you?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I just wanted to take the opportunity of thanking you.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬGood God! What for?вАЭ + 

вАЬYou know!вАЭ the Minister said, вАЬwe couldnвАЩt have got the Bill before the House till next session without your figuresвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He said slyly: вАЬCould we, Sandbach?вАЭ and added to Tietjens: вАЬIngleby told meвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens was chalk-white and stiffened. He stuttered: + 

вАЬI canвАЩt take any credit.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I considerвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Macmaster exclaimed: + 

вАЬTietjensвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ youвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ he didnвАЩt know what he was going to say. + 

вАЬOh, youвАЩre too modest,вАЭ Mr.¬†Waterhouse overwhelmed Tietjens. вАЬWe know whom weвАЩve to thankвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ His eyes drifted to Sandbach a little absently. Then his face lit up. + 

вАЬOh! Look here, Sandbach,вАЭ he saidвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАЬCome here, will you?вАЭ He walked a pace or two away, calling to one of his young men: вАЬOh, Sanderson, give the bobbie a drink. A good stiff one.вАЭ Sandbach jerked himself awkwardly out of his chair and limped to the Minister. + 

Tietjens burst out: + 

вАЬMe too modest! Me!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The swine.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The unspeakable swine!вАЭ + 

The General said: + 

вАЬWhatвАЩs it all about, Chrissie? You probably are too modest.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬDamn it. ItвАЩs a serious matter. ItвАЩs driving me out of the unspeakable office IвАЩm in.вАЭ + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬNo! No! YouвАЩre wrong. ItвАЩs a wrong view you take.вАЭ And with a good deal of real passion he began to explain to the General. It was an affair that had already given him a great deal of pain. The Government had asked the statistical department for figures illuminating a number of schedules that they desired to use in presenting their new Bill to the Commons. Mr.¬†Waterhouse was to present it. + 

Mr.¬†Waterhouse at the moment was slapping Mr.¬†Sandbach on the back, tossing the hair out of his eyes and laughing like a hysterical schoolgirl. He looked suddenly tired. A police constable, his buttons shining, appeared, drinking from a pewter-pot outside the glazed door. The two city men ran across the angle from the dressing-room to the same door, buttoning their clothes. The Minister said loudly: + 

вАЬMake it guineas!вАЭ + 

It seemed to Macmaster painfully wrong that Tietjens should call anyone so genial and unaffected an unspeakable swine. It was unjust. He went on with his explanation to the General. + 

The Government had wanted a set of figures based on a calculation called B 7. Tietjens, who had been working on one called H 19вБ†вАФfor his own instructionвБ†вАФhad persuaded himself that H 19 was the lowest figure that was actuarially sound. + 

The General said pleasantly: вАЬAll this is Greek to me.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh no, it neednвАЩt be,вАЭ Macmaster heard himself say. вАЬIt amounts to this. Chrissie was asked by the GovernmentвБ†вАФby Sir Reginald InglebyвБ†вАФto work out what 3 вЬХ 3 comes to: it was that sort of thing in principle. He said that the only figure that would not ruin the country was nine times nineвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬThe Government wanted to shovel money into the workingmanвАЩs pockets, in fact,вАЭ the General said. вАЬMoney for nothingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ or votes, I suppose.вАЭ + 

вАЬBut that isnвАЩt the point, sir,вАЭ Macmaster ventured to say. вАЬAll that Chrissie was asked to do was to say what 3 вЬХ 3 was.вАЭ + 

вАЬWell, he appears to have done it and earned no end of kudos,вАЭ the General said. вАЬThatвАЩs all right. WeвАЩve all, always, believed in ChrissieвАЩs ability. But heвАЩs a strong-tempered beggar.вАЭ + 

вАЬHe was extraordinarily rude to Sir Reginald over it,вАЭ Macmaster went on. + 

The General said: + 

вАЬOh dear! Oh dear!вАЭ He shook his head at Tietjens and assumed with care the blank, slightly disappointing air of the regular officer. вАЬI donвАЩt like to hear of rudeness to a superior. In any service.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt think,вАЭ Tietjens said with extreme mildness, вАЬthat Macmaster is quite fair to me. Of course heвАЩs a right to his opinion as to what the discipline of a service demands. I certainly told Ingleby that IвАЩd rather resign than do that beastly jobвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou shouldnвАЩt have,вАЭ the General said. вАЬWhat would become of the services if everyone did as you did?вАЭ + 

Sandbach came back laughing and dropped painfully into his low armchair. + 

вАЬThat fellowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ he began. + 

The General slightly raised his hand. + 

вАЬA minute!вАЭ he said. вАЬI was about to tell Chrissie, here, that if I am offered the jobвБ†вАФof course itвАЩs an order reallyвБ†вАФof suppressing the Ulster VolunteersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩd rather cut my throat than do itвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Sandbach said: + 

вАЬOf course you would, old chap. TheyвАЩre our brothers. YouвАЩd see the beastly, lying Government damned first.вАЭ + 

вАЬI was going to say that I should accept,вАЭ the General said, вАЬI shouldnвАЩt resign my commission.вАЭ + 

Sandbach said: + 

вАЬGood God!вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬWell, I didnвАЩt.вАЭ + 

вАЬGeneral! You! After all Claudine and I have saidвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens interrupted: + 

вАЬExcuse me, Sandbach. IвАЩm receiving this reprimand for the moment. I wasnвАЩt, then, rude to Ingleby. If IвАЩd expressed contempt for what he said or for himself, that would have been rude. I didnвАЩt. He wasnвАЩt in the least offended. He looked like a cockatoo, but he wasnвАЩt offended. And I let him over-persuade me. He was right, really. He pointed out that, if I didnвАЩt do the job, those swine would put on one of our little competition wallah head clerks and get all the schedules faked, as well as starting off with false premises!вАЭ + 

вАЬThatвАЩs the view I take,вАЭ the General said, вАЬif I donвАЩt take the Ulster job the Government will put on a fellow whoвАЩll burn all the farmhouses and rape all the women in the three counties. TheyвАЩve got him up their sleeve. He only asks for the Connaught Rangers to go through the north with. And you know what that means. All the sameвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He looked at Tietjens: вАЬOne should not be rude to oneвАЩs superiors.вАЭ + 

вАЬI tell you I wasnвАЩt rude,вАЭ Tietjens exclaimed. вАЬDamn your nice, paternal old eyes. Get that into your mind!вАЭ + 

The General shook his head: + 

вАЬYou brilliant fellows!вАЭ he said. вАЬThe country, or the army, or anything, could not be run by you. It takes stupid fools like me and Sandbach, along with sound, moderate heads like our friend here.вАЭ He indicated Macmaster and, rising, went on: вАЬCome along. YouвАЩre playing me, Macmaster. They say youвАЩre hot stuff. ChrissieвАЩs no good. He can take Sandbach on.вАЭ + 

He walked off with Macmaster towards the dressing-room. + 

Sandbach, wriggling awkwardly out of his chair, shouted: + 

вАЬSave the country.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Damn itвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He stood on his feet. вАЬI and Campion.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Look at what the countryвАЩs come to.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ What with swine like these two in our club houses! And policemen to go round the links with Ministers to protect them from the wild women.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ By God! IвАЩd like to have the flaying of the skin off some of their backs. I would. By God I would.вАЭ + 

He added: + 

вАЬThat fellow Waterslops is a bit of a sportsman. I havenвАЩt been able to tell you about our bet, youвАЩve been making such a noise.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Is your friend really plus one at North Berwick? What are you like?вАЭ + 

вАЬMacmaster is a good plus two anywhere when heвАЩs in practice.вАЭ + 

Sandbach said: + 

вАЬGood Lord.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A stout fellowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬAs for me,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬI loathe the beastly game.вАЭ + 

вАЬSo do I,вАЭ Sandbach answered. вАЬWeвАЩll just lollop along behind them.вАЭ + 

IV + 

They came out into the bright open where all the distances under the tall sky showed with distinct prismatic outlines. They made a little group of sevenвБ†вАФfor Tietjens would not have a caddyвБ†вАФwaiting on the flat, first teeing ground. Macmaster walked up to Tietjens and said under his voice: + 

вАЬYouвАЩve really sent that wire?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬItвАЩll be in Germany by now!вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Sandbach hobbled from one to the other explaining the terms of his wager with Mr.¬†Waterhouse. Mr.¬†Waterhouse had backed one of the young men playing with him to drive into and hit twice in the eighteen holes the two city men who would be playing ahead of them. As the Minister had taken rather short odds Mr.¬†Sandbach considered him a good sport. + 

A long way down the first hole Mr.¬†Waterhouse and his two companions were approaching the first green. They had high sandhills to the right and, to their left, a road that was fringed with rushes and a narrow dyke. Ahead of the Cabinet Minister the two city men and their two caddies stood on the edge of the dyke or poked downwards into the rushes. Two girls appeared and disappeared on the tops of the sandhills. The policeman was strolling along the road, level with Mr.¬†Waterhouse. The General said: + 

вАЬI think we could go now.вАЭ + 

Sandbach said: + 

вАЬWaterslops will get a hit at them from the next tee. TheyвАЩre in the dyke.вАЭ + 

The General drove a straight, goodish ball. Just as Macmaster was in his swing Sandbach shouted: + 

вАЬBy God! He nearly did it. See that fellow jump!вАЭ + 

Macmaster looked round over his shoulder and hissed with vexation between his teeth: + 

вАЬDonвАЩt you know that you donвАЩt shout while a man is driving? Or havenвАЩt you played golf?вАЭ He hurried fussily after his ball. + 

Sandbach said to Tietjens: + 

вАЬGolly! That chapвАЩs got a temper!вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬOnly over this game. You deserved what you got.вАЭ + 

Sandbach said: + 

вАЬI did.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But I didnвАЩt spoil his shot. HeвАЩs outdriven the General twenty yards.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬIt would have been sixty but for you.вАЭ + 

They loitered about on the tee waiting for the others to get their distance. Sandbach said: + 

вАЬBy Jove, your friend is on with his second.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You wouldnвАЩt believe it of such a little beggar!вАЭ He added: вАЬHeвАЩs not much class, is he?вАЭ + 

Tietjens looked down his nose. + 

вАЬOh, about our class!вАЭ he said. вАЬHe wouldnвАЩt take a bet about driving into the couple ahead.вАЭ + 

Sandbach hated Tietjens for being a Tietjens of Groby: Tietjens was enraged by the existence of Sandbach, who was the son of an ennobled mayor of Middlebrough, seven miles or so from Groby. The feuds between the Cleveland landowners and the Cleveland plutocrats are very bitter. Sandbach said: + 

вАЬAh, I suppose he gets you out of scrapes with girls and the Treasury, and you take him about in return. ItвАЩs a practical combination.вАЭ + 

вАЬLike Pottle Mills and Stanton,вАЭ Tietjens said. The financial operations connected with the amalgamating of these two steelworks had earned SandbachвАЩs father a good deal of odium in the Cleveland district.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Sandbach said: + 

вАЬLook here, TietjensвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ But he changed his mind and said: + 

вАЬWeвАЩd better go now.вАЭ He drove off with an awkward action but not without skill. He certainly outplayed Tietjens. + 

Playing very slowly, for both were desultory and Sandbach very lame, they lost sight of the others behind some coastguard cottages and dunes before they had left the third tee. Because of his game leg Sandbach sliced a good deal. On this occasion he sliced right into the gardens of the cottages and went with his boy to look for his ball among potato-haulms, beyond a low wall. Tietjens patted his own ball lazily up the fairway and, dragging his bag behind him by the strap, he sauntered on. + 

Although Tietjens hated golf as he hated any occupation that was of a competitive nature he could engross himself in the mathematics of trajectories when he accompanied Macmaster in one of his expeditions for practice. He accompanied Macmaster because he liked there to be one pursuit at which his friend indisputably excelled himself, for it was a bore always browbeating the fellow. But he stipulated that they should visit three different and, if possible, unknown courses every weekend when they golfed. He interested himself then in the way the courses were laid out, acquiring thus an extraordinary connoisseurship in golf architecture, and he made abstruse calculations as to the flight of balls off sloped club-faces, as to the foot-poundals of energy exercised by one muscle or the other, and as to theories of spin. As often as not he palmed Macmaster off as a fair, average player on some other unfortunate fair, average stranger. Then he passed the afternoon in the clubhouse studying the pedigrees and forms of racehorses, for every clubhouse contained a copy of RuffвАЩs guide. In the spring he would hunt for and examine the nests of soft-billed birds, for he was interested in the domestic affairs of the cuckoo, though he hated natural history and field botany. + 

On this occasion he had just examined some notes of other mashie shots, had put the notebook back in his pocket, and had addressed his ball with a niblick that had an unusually roughened face and a head like a hatchet. Meticulously, when he had taken his grip he removed his little and third fingers from the leather of the shaft. He was thanking heaven that Sandbach seemed to be accounted for for ten minutes at least, for Sandbach was miserly over lost balls and, very slowly, he was raising his mashie to half cock for a sighting shot. + 

He was aware that someone, breathing a little heavily from small lungs, was standing close to him and watching him: he could indeed, beneath his cap-rim, perceive the tips of a pair of boyвАЩs white sand-shoes. It in no way perturbed him to be watched since he was avid of no personal glory when making his shots. A voice said: + 

вАЬI sayвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He continued to look at his ball. + 

вАЬSorry to spoil your shot,вАЭ the voice said. вАЬButвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens dropped his club altogether and straightened his back. A fair young woman with a fixed scowl was looking at him intently. She had a short skirt and was panting a little. + 

вАЬI say,вАЭ she said, вАЬgo and see they donвАЩt hurt Gertie. IвАЩve lost herвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She pointed back to the sandhills. вАЬThere looked to be some beasts among them.вАЭ + 

She seemed a perfectly negligible girl except for the frown: her eyes blue, her hair no doubt fair under a white canvas hat. She had a striped cotton blouse, but her fawn tweed skirt was well hung. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬYouвАЩve been demonstrating.вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬOf course we have, and of course you object on principle. But you wonвАЩt let a girl be manhandled. DonвАЩt wait to tell me I know itвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Noises existed. Sandbach, from beyond the low garden wall fifty yards away, was yelping, just like a dog: вАЬHi! Hi! Hi! Hi!вАЭ and gesticulating. His little caddy, entangled in his golf-bag, was trying to scramble over the wall. On top of a high sandhill stood the policeman: he waved his arms like a windmill and shouted. Beside him and behind, slowly rising, were the heads of the General, Macmaster and their two boys. Further along, in completion were appearing the figures of Mr.¬†Waterhouse, his two companions and their three boys. The Minister was waving his driver and shouting. They all shouted. + 

вАЬA regular rat-hunt,вАЭ the girl said; she was counting. вАЬEleven and two more caddies!вАЭ She exhibited satisfaction. вАЬI headed them all off except two beasts. They couldnвАЩt run. But neither can GertieвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She said urgently: + 

вАЬCome along! You arenвАЩt going to leave Gertie to those beasts! TheyвАЩre drunkвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬCut away then. IвАЩll look after Gertie.вАЭ He picked up his bag. + 

вАЬNo, IвАЩll come with you,вАЭ the girl said. + 

Tietjens answered: вАЬOh, you donвАЩt want to go to gaol. Clear out!вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬNonsense. IвАЩve put up with worse than that. Nine months as a slavey.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Come along!вАЭ + 

Tietjens started to runвБ†вАФrather like a rhinoceros seeing purple. He had been violently spurred, for he had been pierced by a shrill, faint scream. The girl ran beside him. + 

вАЬвА¶¬†canвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ run!вАЭ she panted, вАЬput on a spurt.вАЭ + 

Screams protesting against physical violence were at that date rare things in England. Tietjens had never heard the like. It upset him frightfully, though he was aware only of an expanse of open country. The policeman, whose buttons made him noteworthy, was descending his conical sandhill, diagonally, with caution. There is something grotesque about a town policeman, silvered helmet and all, in the open country. It was so clear and still in the air; Tietjens felt as if he were in a light museum looking at specimens.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

A little young woman, engrossed, like a hunted rat, came round the corner of a green mound. вАЬThis is an assaulted female!вАЭ the mind of Tietjens said to him. She had a black skirt covered with sand, for she had just rolled down the sandhill; she had a striped grey and black silk blouse, one shoulder torn completely off, so that a white camisole showed. Over the shoulder of the sandhill came the two city men, flushed with triumph and panting; their red knitted waistcoats moved like bellows. The black-haired one, his eyes lurid and obscene, brandished aloft a fragment of black and grey stuff. He shouted hilariously: + 

вАЬStrip the bitch naked!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ UghвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Strip the bitch stark naked!вАЭ and jumped down the little hill. He cannoned into Tietjens, who roared at the top of his voice: + 

вАЬYou infernal swine. IвАЩll knock your head off if you move!вАЭ + 

Behind TietjensвАЩ back the girl said: + 

вАЬCome along, Gertie.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs only to thereвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

A voice panted in answer: + 

вАЬIвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ canвАЩt.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ My heartвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens kept his eye upon the city man. His jaw had fallen down, his eyes stared! It was as if the bottom of his assured world, where all men desire in their hearts to bash women, had fallen out. He panted: + 

вАЬErgle! Ergle!вАЭ + 

Another scream, a little further than the last voices from behind his back, caused in Tietjens a feeling of intense weariness. What did beastly women want to scream for? He swung round, bag and all. The policeman, his face scarlet like a lobster just boiled, was lumbering unenthusiastically towards the two girls who were trotting towards the dyke. One of his hands, scarlet also, was extended. He was not a yard from Tietjens. + 

Tietjens was exhausted, beyond thinking or shouting. He slipped his clubs off his shoulder and, as if he were pitching his kit-bag into a luggage van, threw the whole lot between the policemanвАЩs running legs. The man, who had no impetus to speak of, pitched forward on to his hands and knees. His helmet over his eyes, he seemed to reflect for a moment; then he removed his helmet and with great deliberation rolled round and sat on the turf. His face was completely without emotion, long, sandy-moustached and rather shrewd. He mopped his brow with a carmine handkerchief that had white spots. + 

Tietjens walked up to him. + 

вАЬClumsy of me!вАЭ he said. вАЬI hope youвАЩre not hurt.вАЭ He drew from his breast pocket a curved silver flask. The policeman said nothing. His world, too, contained uncertainties and he was profoundly glad to be able to sit still without discredit. He muttered: + 

вАЬShaken. A bit! Anybody would be!вАЭ + 

That let him out and he fell to examining with attention the bayonet catch of the flask top. Tietjens opened it for him. The two girls, advancing at a fatigued trot, were near the dyke side. The fair girl, as they trotted, was trying to adjust her companionвАЩs hat; attached by pins to the back of her hair it flapped on her shoulder. + 

All the rest of the posse were advancing at a very slow walk, in a converging semicircle. Two little caddies were running, but Tietjens saw them check, hesitate and stop. And there floated to TietjensвАЩ ears the words: + 

вАЬStop, you little devils. SheвАЩll knock your heads off.вАЭ + 

Rt. Hon.¬†Mr.¬†Waterhouse must have found an admirable voice trainer somewhere. The drab girl was balancing tremulously over a plank on the dyke; the other took it at a jump: up in the airвБ†вАФdown on her feet; perfectly businesslike. And, as soon as the other girl was off the plank, she was down on her knees before it, pulling it towards her, the other girl trotting away over the vast marsh field. + 

The girl dropped the plank on the grass. Then she looked up and faced the men and boys who stood in a row on the road. She called in a shrill, high voice, like a young cockerelвАЩs: + 

вАЬSeventeen to two! The usual male odds! YouвАЩll have to go round by Camber railway bridge, and weвАЩll be in Folkestone by then. WeвАЩve got bicycles!вАЭ She was half going when she checked and, searching out Tietjens to address, exclaimed: вАЬIвАЩm sorry I said that. Because some of you didnвАЩt want to catch us. But some of you did. And you were seventeen to two.вАЭ She addressed Mr.¬†Waterhouse: + 

вАЬWhy donвАЩt you give women the vote?вАЭ she said. вАЬYouвАЩll find it will interfere a good deal with your indispensable golf if you donвАЩt. Then what becomes of the nationвАЩs health?вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Waterhouse said: + 

вАЬIf youвАЩll come and discuss it quietlyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬOh, tell that to the marines,вАЭ and turned away, the men in a row watching her figure disappear into the distance of the flat land. Not one of them was inclined to risk that jump: there was nine foot of mud in the bottom of the dyke. It was quite true that, the plank being removed, to go after the women they would have had to go several miles round. It had been a well thought out raid. Mr.¬†Waterhouse said that girl was a ripping girl: the others found her just ordinary. Mr.¬†Sandbach, who had only lately ceased to shout: вАЬHi!вАЭ wanted to know what they were going to do about catching the women, but Mr.¬†Waterhouse said: вАЬOh, chuck it, Sandy,вАЭ and went off. + 

Mr.¬†Sandbach refused to continue his match with Tietjens. He said that Tietjens was the sort of fellow who was the ruin of England. He said he had a good mind to issue a warrant for the arrest of TietjensвБ†вАФfor obstructing the course of justice. Tietjens pointed out that Sandbach wasnвАЩt a borough magistrate and so couldnвАЩt. And Sandbach went off, dot and carry one, and began a furious row with the two city men who had retreated to a distance. He said they were the sort of men who were the ruin of England. They bleated like rams.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Tietjens wandered slowly up the course, found his ball, made his shot with care and found that the ball deviated several feet less to the right of a straight line than he had expected. He tried the shot again, obtained the same result and tabulated his observations in his notebook. He sauntered slowly back towards the clubhouse. He was content. + 

He felt himself to be content for the first time in four months. His pulse beat calmly; the heat of the sun all over him appeared to be a beneficent flood. On the flanks of the older and larger sandhills he observed the minute herbage, mixed with little purple aromatic plants. To these the constant nibbling of sheep had imparted a protective tininess. He wandered, content, round the sandhills to the small, silted harbour mouth. After reflecting for some time on the wave-curves in the sloping mud of the water sides he had a long conversation, mostly in signs, with a Finn who hung over the side of a tarred, stump-masted, battered vessel that had a gaping, splintered hole where the anchor should have hung. She came from Archangel; was of several hundred tons burden, was knocked together anyhow, of soft wood, for about ninety pounds, and launched, sink or swim, in the timber trade. Beside her, taut, glistening with brasswork, was a new fishing boat, just built there for the Lowestoft fleet. Ascertaining her price from a man who was finishing her painting, Tietjens reckoned that you could have built three of the Archangel timber ships for the cost of that boat, and that the Archangel vessel would earn about twice as much per hour per ton.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

It was in that way his mind worked when he was fit: it picked up little pieces of definite, workmanlike information. When it had enough it classified them: not for any purpose, but because to know things was agreeable and gave a feeling of strength, of having in reserve something that the other fellow would not suspect.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He passed a long, quiet, abstracted afternoon. + 

In the dressing-room he found the General, among lockers, old coats, and stoneware washing basins set in scrubbed wood. The General leaned back against a row of these things. + 

вАЬYou are the ruddy limit!вАЭ he exclaimed. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬWhereвАЩs Macmaster?вАЭ + 

The General said he had sent Macmaster off with Sandbach in the two-seater. Macmaster had to dress before going up to Mountby. He added: вАЬThe ruddy limit!вАЭ again. + 

вАЬBecause I knocked the bobbie over?вАЭ Tietjens asked. вАЬHe liked it.вАЭ + 

The General said: + 

вАЬKnocked the bobbie over.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I didnвАЩt see that.вАЭ + 

вАЬHe didnвАЩt want to catch the girls,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬyou could see himвБ†вАФoh, yearning not to.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt want to know anything about that,вАЭ the General said. вАЬI shall hear enough about it from Paul Sandbach. Give the bobbie a quid and letвАЩs hear no more of it. IвАЩm a magistrate.вАЭ + 

вАЬThen what have I done?вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬI helped those girls to get off. You didnвАЩt want to catch them; Waterhouse didnвАЩt, the policeman didnвАЩt. No one did except the swine. Then whatвАЩs the matter?вАЭ + 

вАЬDamn it all!вАЭ the General said, вАЬdonвАЩt you remember that youвАЩre a young married man?вАЭ + 

With respect for the GeneralвАЩs superior age and achievements, Tietjens stopped himself laughing. + 

вАЬIf youвАЩre really serious, sir,вАЭ he said, вАЬI always remember it very carefully. I donвАЩt suppose youвАЩre suggesting that IвАЩve ever shown want of respect for Sylvia.вАЭ + 

The General shook his head. + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know,вАЭ he said. вАЬAnd damn it all IвАЩm worried. IвАЩm.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Hang it all, IвАЩm your fatherвАЩs oldest friend.вАЭ The General looked indeed worn and saddened in the light of the sand-drifted, ground-glass windows. He said: вАЬWas that skirt aвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a friend of yours? Had you arranged it with her?вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬWouldnвАЩt it be better, sir, if you said what you had on your mind?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The old General blushed a little. + 

вАЬI donвАЩt like to,вАЭ he said straightforwardly. вАЬYou brilliant fellow.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I only want, my dear boy, to hint thatвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said, a little more stiffly: + 

вАЬIвАЩd prefer you to get it out, sir.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I acknowledge your right as my fatherвАЩs oldest friend.вАЭ + 

вАЬThen,вАЭ the General burst out, вАЬwho was the skirt you were lolloping up Pall Mall with? On the last day they trooped the colour?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I didnвАЩt see her myself.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Was it this same one? Paul said she looked like a cook maid.вАЭ + 

Tietjens made himself a little more rigid. + 

вАЬShe was, as a matter of fact, a bookmakerвАЩs secretary,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬI imagine I have the right to walk where I like, with whom I like. And no one has the right to question it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I donвАЩt mean you, sir. But no one else.вАЭ + 

The General said puzzledly: + 

вАЬItвАЩs you brilliant fellows.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ They all say youвАЩre brilliant.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬYou might let your rooted distrust of intelligence.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs natural of course; but you might let it allow you to be just to me. I assure you there was nothing discreditable.вАЭ + 

The General interrupted: + 

вАЬIf you were a stupid young subaltern and told me you were showing your motherвАЩs new cook the way to the Piccadilly tube IвАЩd believe you.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But, then, no young subaltern would do such a damn, blasted, tomfool thing! Paul said you walked beside her like the king in his glory! Through the crush outside the Haymarket, of all places in the world!вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩm obliged to Sandbach for his commendation.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Tietjens said. He thought a moment. Then he said: + 

вАЬI was trying to get that young woman.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I was taking her out to lunch from her office at the bottom of the Haymarket.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ To get her off a friendвАЩs back. That is, of course, between ourselves.вАЭ + 

He said this with great reluctance because he didnвАЩt want to cast reflection on MacmasterвАЩs taste, for the young lady had been by no means one to be seen walking with a really circumspect public official. But he had said nothing to indicate Macmaster, and he had other friends. + 

The General choked. + 

вАЬUpon my soul,вАЭ he said, вАЬwhat do you take me for?вАЭ He repeated the words as if he were amazed. вАЬIf,вАЭ he said, вАЬmy G.S.O. IIвБ†вАФwhoвАЩs the stupidest ass I knowвБ†вАФtold me such a damn-fool lie as that IвАЩd have him broke tomorrow.вАЭ He went on expostulatorily: вАЬDamn it all, itвАЩs the first duty of a soldierвБ†вАФitвАЩs the first duty of all EnglishmenвБ†вАФto be able to tell a good lie in answer to a charge. But a lie like thatвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He broke off breathless, then he began again: + 

вАЬHang it all, I told that lie to my grandmother and my grandfather told it to his grandfather. And they call you brilliant!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He paused and then asked reproachfully: вАЬOr do you think IвАЩm in a state of senile decay?вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬI know you, sir, to be the smartest general of division in the British Army. I leave you to draw your own conclusions as to why I said what I did.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He had told the exact truth, but he was not sorry to be disbelieved. + 

The General said: + 

вАЬThen IвАЩll take it that you tell me a lie meaning me to know that itвАЩs a lie. ThatвАЩs quite proper. I take it you mean to keep the woman officially out of it. But look here, ChrissieвАЭвБ†вАФhis tone took a deeper seriousnessвБ†вАФвАЬIf the woman thatвАЩs come between you and SylviaвБ†вАФthatвАЩs broken up your home, damn it, for thatвАЩs what it is!вБ†вАФis little Miss WannopвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬHer name was Julia Mandelstein,вАЭ Tietjens said. + 

The General said: + 

вАЬYes! Yes! Of course!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But if it is the little Wannop girl and itвАЩs not gone too far.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Put her back.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Put her back, as you used to be a good boy! It would be too hard on the motherвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬGeneral! I give you my wordвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The General said: + 

вАЬIвАЩm not asking any questions, my boy; IвАЩm talking now. YouвАЩve told me the story you want told and itвАЩs the story IвАЩll tell for you! But that little piece isвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ she used to be!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ as straight as a die. I daresay you know better than I. Of course when they get among the wild women thereвАЩs no knowing what happens to them. They say theyвАЩre all whores.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I beg your pardon, if you like the girlвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬIs Miss Wannop,вАЭ Tietjens asked, вАЬthe girl who demonstrates?вАЭ + 

вАЬSandbach said,вАЭ the General went on, вАЬthat he couldnвАЩt see from where he was whether that girl was the same as the one in the Haymarket. But he thought it was.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He was pretty certain.вАЭ + 

вАЬAs heвАЩs married your sister,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬone canвАЩt impugn his taste in women.вАЭ + 

вАЬI say again, IвАЩm not asking,вАЭ the General said. вАЬBut I do say again too: put her back. Her father was a great friend of your fatherвАЩs: or your father was a great admirer of his. They say he was the most brilliant brain of the party.вАЭ + 

вАЬOf course I know who Professor Wannop was,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬThereвАЩs nothing you could tell me about him.вАЭ + 

вАЬI daresay not,вАЭ the General said drily. вАЬThen you know that he didnвАЩt leave a farthing when he died and the rotten Liberal Government wouldnвАЩt put his wife and children on the Civil List because heвАЩd sometimes written for a Tory paper. And you know that the mother has had a deuced hard row to hoe and has only just turned the corner. If she can be said to have turned it. I know Claudine takes them all the peaches she can cadge out of PaulвАЩs gardener.вАЭ + 

Tietjens was about to say that Mrs.¬†Wannop, the mother, had written the only novel worth reading since the eighteenth century.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But the General went on: + 

вАЬListen to me, my boy.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ If you canвАЩt get on without womenвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I should have thought Sylvia was good enough. But I know what we men are.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I donвАЩt set up to be a saint. I heard a woman in the promenade of the Empire say once that it was the likes of them that saved the lives and figures of all the virtuous women of the country. And I daresay itвАЩs true.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But choose a girl that you can set up in a tobacco shop and do your courting in the back parlour. Not in the Haymarket.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Heaven knows if you can afford it. ThatвАЩs your affair. You appear to have been sold up. And from what SylviaвАЩs let drop to ClaudineвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt believe,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬthat SylviaвАЩs said anything to Lady ClaudineвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ SheвАЩs too straight.вАЭ + 

вАЬI didnвАЩt say вАШsaid,вАЩвАКвАЭ the General exclaimed, вАЬI particularly said вАШlet drop.вАЩ And perhaps I oughtnвАЩt to have said as much as that, but you know what devils for ferreting out women are. And ClaudineвАЩs worse than any woman I ever knewвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬAnd, of course, sheвАЩs had Sandbach to help,вАЭ Tietjens said. + 

вАЬOh, that fellowвАЩs worse than any woman,вАЭ the General exclaimed. + 

вАЬThen what does the whole indictment amount to?вАЭ Tietjens asked. + 

вАЬOh, hang it,вАЭ the General brought out, вАЬIвАЩm not a beastly detective, I only want a plausible story to tell Claudine. Or not even plausible. An obvious lie as long as it shows youвАЩre not flying in the face of societyвБ†вАФas walking up the Haymarket with the little Wannop when your wifeвАЩs left you because of her would be.вАЭ + 

вАЬWhat does it amount to?вАЭ Tietjens said patiently. вАЬWhat Sylvia вАШlet dropвАЩ?вАЭ + 

вАЬOnly,вАЭ the General answered, вАЬthat you areвБ†вАФthat your views areвБ†вАФimmoral. Of course they often puzzle me. And, of course, if you have views that arenвАЩt the same as other peopleвАЩs, and donвАЩt keep them to yourself, other people will suspect you of immorality. ThatвАЩs what put Paul Sandbach on your track!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and that youвАЩre extravagant.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Oh, hang it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Eternal hansoms, and taxis and telegramsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You know, my boy, times arenвАЩt what they were when your father and I married. We used to say you could do it on five hundred a year as a younger son.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And then this girl tooвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ His voice took on a more agitated note of shynessвБ†вАФpain.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАЬIt probably hadnвАЩt occurred to you.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But, of course, Sylvia has an income of her own.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And, donвАЩt you seeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ if you outrun the constable andвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ In short, youвАЩre spending SylviaвАЩs money on the other girl, and thatвАЩs what people canвАЩt stand.вАЭ He added quickly: вАЬIвАЩm bound to say that Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite backs you through thick and thin. Thick and thin! Claudine wrote to her. But you know what women are with a handsome son-in-law thatвАЩs always polite to them. But I may tell you that but for your mother-in-law, Claudine would have cut you out of her visiting list months ago. And youвАЩd have been cut out of some others tooвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬThanks. I think thatвАЩs enough to go on with.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Give me a couple of minutes to reflect on what youвАЩve saidвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩll wash my hands and change my coat,вАЭ the General said with intense relief. + 

At the end of two minutes Tietjens said: + 

вАЬNo; I donвАЩt see that there is anything I want to say.вАЭ The General exclaimed with enthusiasm: + 

вАЬThatвАЩs my good lad! Open confession is next to reform.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ AndвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and try to be more respectful to your superiors.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Damn it; they say youвАЩre brilliant. But I thank heaven I havenвАЩt got you in my command.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Though I believe youвАЩre a good lad. But youвАЩre the sort of fellow to set a whole division by the ears.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A regularвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ whatвАЩs вАЩis name? A regular Dreyfus!вАЭ + 

вАЬDid you think Dreyfus was guilty?вАЭ Tietjens asked. + 

вАЬHang it,вАЭ the General said, вАЬhe was worse than guiltyвБ†вАФthe sort of fellow you couldnвАЩt believe in and yet couldnвАЩt prove anything against. The curse of the worldвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬAh.вАЭ + 

вАЬWell, they are,вАЭ the General said: вАЬfellows like that unsettle society. You donвАЩt know where you are. You canвАЩt judge. They make you uncomfortable.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A brilliant fellow too! I believe heвАЩs a brigadier-general by nowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He put his arm round TietjensвАЩ shoulders. + 

вАЬThere, there, my dear boy,вАЭ he said, вАЬcome and have a sloe gin. ThatвАЩs the real answer to all beastly problems.вАЭ + 

It was some time before Tietjens could get to think of his own problems. The fly that took them back went with the slow pomp of the procession over the winding marsh road in front of the absurdly picturesque red pyramid of the very old town. Tietjens had to listen to the General suggesting that it would be better if he didnвАЩt come to the golf-club till Monday. He would get Macmaster some good games. A good, sound fellow that Macmaster now. It was a pity Tietjens hadnвАЩt some of his soundness! + 

Two city men had approached the General on the course and had used some violent invectives against Tietjens: they had objected to being called ruddy swine to their faces: they were going to the police. The General said that he had told them himself, slowly and guiltily, that they were ruddy swine and that they would never get another ticket at that club after Monday. But till Monday, apparently, they had the right to be there and the club wouldnвАЩt want scenes. Sandbach, too, was infuriated about Tietjens. + 

Tietjens said that the fault lay with the times that permitted the introduction into gentlemenвАЩs company of such social swipes as Sandbach. One acted perfectly correctly and then a dirty little beggar like that put dirty little constructions on it and ran about and bleated. He added that he knew Sandbach was the GeneralвАЩs brother-in-law, but he couldnвАЩt help it. That was the truth.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The General said: вАЬI know, my boy: I knowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ But one had to take society as one found it. Claudine had to be provided for and Sandbach made a very good husband, careful, sober, and on the right side in politics. A bit of a rip; but they couldnвАЩt ask for everything! And Claudine was using all the influence she had with the other sideвБ†вАФwhich was not a little, women were so wonderful!вБ†вАФto get him a diplomatic job in Turkey, so as to get him out of the way of Mrs.¬†Crundall! Mrs.¬†Crundall was the leading Anti-Suffragette of the little town. That was what made Sandbach so bitter against Tietjens. He told Tietjens so that Tietjens might understand. + 

Tietjens had hitherto flattered himself that he could examine a subject swiftly and put it away in his mind. To the General he hardly listened. The allegations against himself were beastly; but he could usually ignore allegations against himself and he imagined that if he said no more about them he would himself hear no more. And, if there were, in clubs and places where men talk, unpleasant rumours as to himself he preferred it to be thought that he was the rip, not his wife the strumpet. That was normal, male vanity: the preference of the English gentleman! Had it been a matter of Sylvia spotless and himself as spotless as he wasвБ†вАФfor in all these things he knew himself to be spotless!вБ†вАФhe would certainly have defended himself, at least, to the General. But he had acted practically in not defending himself more vigorously. For he imagined that, had he really tried, he could have made the General believe him. But he had behaved rightly! It was not mere vanity. There was the child up at his sister EffieвАЩs. It was better for a boy to have a rip of a father than a whore for mother! + 

The General was expatiating on the solidity of a squat castle, like a pile of draughts, away to the left, in the sun, on the flatness. He was saying that we didnвАЩt build like that nowadays. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬYouвАЩre perfectly wrong, General. All the castles that Henry VIII built in 1543 along this coast are mere monuments of jerry-building.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАШIn 1543 jactat castra Delis, Sandgatto, Reia, Hastingas Henricus RexвАЩвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ That means he chucked them downвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The General laughed: + 

вАЬYou are an incorrigible fellow.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ If ever thereвАЩs any known, certain factвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬBut go and look at the beastly things,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬYouвАЩll see theyвАЩve got just a facing of Caen stone that the tide floated here, and the fillings-up are just rubble, any rubbish.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Look here! ItвАЩs a known certain fact, isnвАЩt it, that your eighteen-pounders are better than the French seventy-fives. They tell us so in the House, on the hustings, in the papers: the public believes it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But would you put one of your tiny pet things firingвБ†вАФwhat is it?вБ†вАФfour shells a minute?вБ†вАФwith the little bent pins in their tails to stop the recoilвБ†вАФagainst their seventy-fives with the compressed-air cylindersвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The General sat stiffly upon his cushions: + 

вАЬThatвАЩs different,вАЭ he said. вАЬHow the devil do you get to know these things?вАЭ + 

вАЬIt isnвАЩt different,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬitвАЩs the same muddleheaded frame of mind that sees good building in Henry VIII as lets us into wars with hopelessly antiquated field guns and rottenly inferior ammunition. YouвАЩd fire any fellow on your staff who said we could stand up for a minute against the French.вАЭ + 

вАЬWell, anyhow,вАЭ the General said, вАЬI thank heaven youвАЩre not on my staff for youвАЩd talk my hind leg off in a week. ItвАЩs perfectly true that the publicвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

But Tietjens was not listening. He was considering that it was natural for an unborn fellow like Sandbach to betray the solidarity that should exist between men. And it was natural for a childless woman like Lady Claudine Sandbach with a notoriously, a flagrantly unfaithful husband to believe in the unfaithfulness of the husbands of other women! + 

The General was saying: + 

вАЬWho did you hear that stuff from about the French field gun?вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬFrom you. Three weeks ago!вАЭ + 

And all the other society women with unfaithful husbands.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ They must do their best to down and out a man. They would cut him on their visiting lists! Let them. The barren harlots mated to faithless eunuchs;вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Suddenly he thought that he didnвАЩt know for certain that he was the father of his child and he groaned. + 

вАЬWell, what have I said wrong now?вАЭ the General asked. вАЬSurely you donвАЩt maintain that pheasants do eat mangolds.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens proved his reputation for sanity with: + 

вАЬNo! I was just groaning at the thought of the Chancellor! ThatвАЩs sound enough for you, isnвАЩt it?вАЭ But it gave him a nasty turn. He hadnвАЩt been able to pigeonhole and padlock his disagreeable reflections. He had been as good as talking to himself.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

In the bow-window of another hostelry than his own he caught the eye of Mr.¬†Waterhouse, who was looking at the view over the marshes. The great man beckoned to him and he went in. Mr.¬†Waterhouse was aware that TietjensвБ†вАФwhom he assumed to be a man of senseвБ†вАФshould get any pursuit of the two girls stopped off. He couldnвАЩt move in the matter himself, but a five pound note and possibly a police promotion or so might be handed round if no advertisement were given to the mad women on account of their raid of that afternoon. + 

It was not a very difficult matter: for where the great man was to be found in the club lounge, there, in the bar, the mayor, the town clerk, the local head of the police, the doctors and solicitors would be found drinking together. And after it was arranged the great man himself came into the bar, had a drink and pleased them all immensely by his affability.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Tietjens himself, dining alone with the Minister to whom he wanted to talk about his Labour Finance Act, didnвАЩt find him a disagreeable fellow: not really foolish, not sly except in his humour, tired obviously, but livening up after a couple of whiskies, and certainly not as yet plutocratic; with tastes for apple-pie and cream of a fourteen-year-old boy. And, even as regards his famous Act, which was then shaking the country to its political foundations, once you accepted its fundamental unsuitedness to the temperament and needs of the English working-class, you could see that Mr.¬†Waterhouse didnвАЩt want to be dishonest. He accepted with gratitude several of TietjensвАЩ emendations in the actuarial schedules.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And over their port they agreed on two fundamental legislative ideals: every working man to have a minimum of four hundred a year and every beastly manufacturer who wanted to pay less to be hung. That, it appeared, was the High Toryism of Tietjens as it was the extreme Radicalism of the extreme Left of the Left.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

And Tietjens, who hated no man, in face of this simple-minded and agreeable schoolboy type of fellow, fell to wondering why it was that humanity that was next to always agreeable in its units was, as a mass, a phenomenon so hideous. You look at a dozen men, each of them not by any means detestable and not uninteresting: for each of them would have technical details of their affairs to impart: you formed them into a Government or a club and at once, with oppressions, inaccuracies, gossip, backbiting, lying, corruptions and vileness, you had the combination of wolf, tiger, weasel and louse-covered ape that was human society. And he remembered the words of some Russian: вАЬCats and monkeys. Monkeys and cats. All humanity is there.вАЭ + 

Tietjens and Mrs.¬†Waterhouse spent the rest of the evening together. + 

Whilst Tietjens was interviewing the policeman, the Minister sat on the front steps of the cottage and smoked cheap cigarettes, and when Tietjens went to bed Mr.¬†Waterhouse insisted on sending by him kindly messages to Miss Wannop, asking her to come and discuss female suffrage any afternoon she liked in his private room at the House of Commons. Mr.¬†Waterhouse flatly refused to believe that Tietjens hadnвАЩt arranged the raid for Miss Wannop. He said it had been too neatly planned for any woman, and he said Tietjens was a lucky fellow, for she was a ripping girl. + 

Back in his room under the rafters, Tietjens fell, nevertheless, at once a prey to real agitation. For a long time he pounded from wall to wall and, since he could not shake off the train of thought, he got out at last his patience cards, and devoted himself seriously to thinking out the conditions of his life with Sylvia. He wanted to stop scandal if he could; he wanted them to live within his income, he wanted to subtract that child from the influence of its mother. These were all definite but difficult things.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Then one-half of his mind lost itself in the rearrangement of schedules, and on his brilliant table his hands set queens on kings and checked their recurrences. + 

In that way the sudden entrance of Macmaster gave him a really terrible physical shock. He nearly vomited: his brain reeled and the room fell about. He drank a great quantity of whisky in front of MacmasterвАЩs goggling eyes; but even at that he couldnвАЩt talk, and he dropped into his bed faintly aware of his friendвАЩs efforts to loosen his clothes. He had, he knew, carried the suppression of thought in his conscious mind so far that his unconscious self had taken command and had, for the time, paralysed both his body and mind. + 

V + 

вАЬIt doesnвАЩt seem quite fair, Valentine,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Duchemin said. She was rearranging in a glass bowl some minute flowers that floated on water. They made there, on the breakfast-table, a patch, as it were, of mosaic amongst silver chafing dishes, silver √©pergnes piled with peaches in pyramids, and great silver rose-bowls filled with roses, that drooped to the damask cloth. A congeries of silver largenesses made as if a fortification for the head of the table; two huge silver urns, a great silver kettle on a tripod and a couple of silver vases filled with the extremely tall blue spikes of delphiniums that, spreading out, made as if a fan. The eighteenth century room was very tall and long; panelled in darkish wood. In the centre of each of four of the panels, facing the light, hung pictures, a mellowed orange in tone, representing mists and the cordage of ships in mists at sunrise. On the bottom of each large gold frame was a tablet bearing the ascription: вАЬJ. M. W. Turner.вАЭ The chairs, arranged along the long table that was set for eight people, had the delicate, spidery, mahogany backs of Chippendale; on the golden mahogany sideboard that had behind it green silk curtains on a brass-rail were displayed an immense, crumbed ham, more peaches on an √©pergne, a large meat-pie with a varnished crust, another √©pergne that supported the large pale globes of grapefruit; a galantine, a cube of inlaid meats, encased in thick jelly. + 

вАЬOh, women have to back each other up in these days,вАЭ Valentine Wannop said. вАЬI couldnвАЩt let you go through this alone after breakfasting with you every Saturday since I donвАЩt know when.вАЭ + 

вАЬI do feel,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Duchemin said, вАЬimmensely grateful to you for your moral support. I ought not, perhaps, to have risked this morning. But IвАЩve told Parry to keep him out till 10:15.вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs, at any rate, tremendously sporting of you,вАЭ the girl said. вАЬI think it was worth trying.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin, wavering round the table, slightly changed the position of the delphiniums. + 

вАЬI think they make a good screen,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Duchemin said. + 

вАЬOh, nobody will be able to see him,вАЭ the girl answered reassuringly. She added with a sudden resolution, вАЬLook here, Edie. Stop worrying about my mind. If you think that anything I hear at your table after nine months as an ash-cat at Ealing, with three men in the house, an invalid wife and a drunken cook, can corrupt my mind, youвАЩre simply mistaken. You can let your conscience be at rest, and letвАЩs say no more about it.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin said, вАЬOh, Valentine! How could your mother let you?вАЭ + 

вАЬShe didnвАЩt know,вАЭ the girl said. вАЬShe was out of her mind for grief. She sat for most of the whole nine months with her hands folded before her in a board and lodging house at twenty-five shillings a week, and it took the five shillings a week that I earned to make up the money.вАЭ She added, вАЬGilbert had to be kept at school of course. And in the holidays, too.вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt understand!вАЭ Mrs.¬†Duchemin said. вАЬI simply donвАЩt understand.вАЭ + 

вАЬOf course you wouldnвАЩt,вАЭ the girl answered. вАЬYouвАЩre like the kindly people who subscribed at the sale to buy my fatherвАЩs library back and present it to my mother. That cost us five shillings a week for warehousing, and at Ealing they were always nagging at me for the state of my print dressesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She broke off and said: + 

вАЬLetвАЩs not talk about it any more if you donвАЩt mind. You have me in your house, so I suppose youвАЩve a right to references, as the mistresses call them. But youвАЩve been very good to me and never asked. Still, itвАЩs come up; do you know I told a man on the links yesterday that IвАЩd been a slavey for nine months. I was trying to explain why I was a suffragette; and, as I was asking him a favour, I suppose I felt I needed to give him references too.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin, beginning to advance towards the girl impulsively, exclaimed: + 

вАЬYou darling!вАЭ + 

Miss Wannop said: + 

вАЬWait a minute. I havenвАЩt finished. I want to say this: I never talk about that stage of my career because IвАЩm ashamed of it. IвАЩm ashamed of it because I think I did the wrong thing, not for any other reason. I did it on impulse and I stuck to it out of obstinacy. I mean it would probably have been more sensible to go round with the hat to benevolent people, for the keep of mother and to complete my education. But if weвАЩve inherited the Wannop ill-luck, weвАЩve inherited the Wannop pride. And I couldnвАЩt do it. Besides I was only seventeen, and I gave out we were going into the country after the sale. IвАЩm not educated at all, as you know, or only half, because father, being a brilliant man, had ideas. And one of them was that I was to be an athletic, not a classical don at Cambridge, or I might have been, I believe. I donвАЩt know why he had that tic.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But IвАЩd like you to understand two things. One IвАЩve said already: what I hear in this house wonвАЩt ever shock or corrupt me; that itвАЩs said in Latin is neither here nor there. I understand Latin almost as well as English because father used to talk it to me and Gilbert as soon as we talked at all.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And, oh yes: IвАЩm a suffragette because IвАЩve been a slavey. But IвАЩd like you to understand that, though I was a slavey and am a suffragetteвБ†вАФyouвАЩre an old-fashioned woman and queer things are thought about these two thingsвБ†вАФthen IвАЩd like you to understand that in spite of it all IвАЩm pure! Chaste, you know.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Perfectly virtuous.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin said: + 

вАЬOh, Valentine! Did you wear a cap and apron? You! In a cap and apron.вАЭ + 

Miss Wannop replied: + 

вАЬYes! I wore a cap and apron and sniffled, вАШMвАЩm!вАЩ to the mistress; and slept under the stairs too. Because I would not sleep with the beast of a cook.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin now ran forward and catching Miss Wannop by both hands kissed her first on the left and then on the right cheek. + 

вАЬOh, Valentine,вАЭ she said, вАЬyouвАЩre a heroine. And you only twenty-two!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IsnвАЩt that the motor coming?вАЭ + 

But it wasnвАЩt the motor coming and Miss Wannop said: + 

вАЬOh, no! IвАЩm not a heroine. When I tried to speak to that Minister yesterday, I just couldnвАЩt. It was Gertie who went for him. As for me, I just hopped from one leg to the other and stuttered: вАШVвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ VвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Votes for WвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ WвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ WвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ omen!вАЩвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ If IвАЩd been decently brave I shouldnвАЩt have been too shy to speak to a strange man.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ For that was what it really came to.вАЭ + 

вАЬBut that surely,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Duchemin saidвБ†вАФshe continued to hold both the girlвАЩs handsвБ†вАФвАЬmakes you all the braver.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs the person who does the thing heвАЩs afraid of whoвАЩs the real hero, isnвАЩt it?вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, we used to argue that old thing over with father when we were ten. You canвАЩt tell. YouвАЩve got to define the term brave. I was just abject.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I could harangue the whole crowd when I got them together. But speak to one man in cold blood I couldnвАЩt.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Of course I did speak to a fat golfing idiot with bulging eyes, to get him to save Gertie. But that was different.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin moved both the girlвАЩs hands up and down in her own. + 

вАЬAs you know, Valentine,вАЭ she said, вАЬIвАЩm an old-fashioned woman. I believe that womanвАЩs true place is at her husbandвАЩs side. At the same timeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Miss Wannop moved away. + 

вАЬNow, donвАЩt, Edie, donвАЩt!вАЭ she said. вАЬIf you believe that, youвАЩre an anti. DonвАЩt run with the hare and hunt with the hounds. ItвАЩs your defect really.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I tell you IвАЩm not a heroine. I dread prison: I hate rows. IвАЩm thankful to goodness that itвАЩs my duty to stop and housemaid-typewrite for mother, so that I canвАЩt really do things.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Look at that miserable, adenoidy little Gertie, hiding upstairs in our garret. She was crying all last nightвБ†вАФbut thatвАЩs just nerves. Yet sheвАЩs been in prison five times, stomach-pumped and all. Not a moment of funk about her!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But as for me, a girl as hard as a rock that prison wouldnвАЩt touch.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Why, IвАЩm all of a jump now. ThatвАЩs why IвАЩm talking nonsense like a pert schoolgirl. I just dread that every sound may be the police coming for me.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin stroked the girlвАЩs fair hair and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. + 

вАЬI wish youвАЩd let me show you how to do your hair,вАЭ she said. вАЬThe right man might come along at any moment.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, the right man!вАЭ Miss Wannop said. вАЬThanks for tactfully changing the subject. The right man for me, when he comes along, will be a married man. ThatвАЩs the Wannop luck!вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin said, with deep concern: + 

вАЬDonвАЩt talk like that.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Why should you regard yourself as being less lucky than other people? Surely your motherвАЩs done well. She has a position; she makes money.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬAh, but mother isnвАЩt a Wannop,вАЭ the girl said, вАЬonly by marriage. The real WannopsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ theyвАЩve been executed, and attaindered, and falsely accused and killed in carriage accidents and married adventurers or died penniless like father. Ever since the dawn of history. And then, motherвАЩs got her mascotвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, whatвАЩs that?вАЭ Mrs.¬†Duchemin asked, almost with animation, вАЬa relicвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬDonвАЩt you know motherвАЩs mascot?вАЭ the girl asked. вАЬShe tells everybody.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ DonвАЩt you know the story of the man with the champagne? How mother was sitting contemplating suicide in her bed-sitting room and there came in a man with a name like Tea-tray; she always calls him the mascot and asks us to remember him as such in our prayers.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He was a man whoвАЩd been at a German university with father years before and loved him very dearly, but not kept touch with him. And heвАЩd been out of England for nine months when father died and round about it. And he said: вАШNow Mrs.¬†Wannop, whatвАЩs this?вАЩ And she told him. And he said, вАШWhat you want is champagne!вАЩ And he sent the slavey out with a sovereign for a bottle of Veuve Cliquot. And he broke the neck of the bottle off against the mantelpiece because they were slow in bringing an opener. And he stood over her while she drank half the bottle out of her tooth-glass. And he took her out to lunchвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ oвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ oвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ oh, itвАЩs cold!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And lectured herвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And got her a job to write leaders on a paper he had shares inвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin said: + 

вАЬYouвАЩre shivering!вАЭ + 

вАЬI know I am,вАЭ the girl said. She went on very fast. вАЬAnd of course, mother always wrote fatherвАЩs articles for him. He found the ideas, but couldnвАЩt write, and sheвАЩs a splendid style.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And, since then, heвБ†вАФthe mascotвБ†вАФTea-trayвБ†вАФhas always turned up when sheвАЩs been in tight places. Then the paper blew her up and threatened to dismiss her for inaccuracies! SheвАЩs frightfully inaccurate. And he wrote her out a table of things every leader writer must know, such as that вАШA. EborвАЩ is the Archbishop of York, and that the Government is Liberal. And one day he turned up and said: вАШWhy donвАЩt you write a novel on that story you told me?вАЩ And he lent her the money to buy the cottage weвАЩre in now to be quiet and write inвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Oh, I canвАЩt go on!вАЭ + 

Miss Wannop burst into tears. + 

вАЬItвАЩs thinking of those beastly days,вАЭ she said. вАЬAnd that beastly, beastly yesterday!вАЭ She ran the knuckles of both her hands fiercely into her eyes, and determinedly eluded Mrs.¬†DucheminвАЩs handkerchief and embraces. She said almost contemptuously: + 

вАЬA nice, considerate person I am. And you with this ordeal hanging over you! Do you suppose I donвАЩt appreciate all your silent heroism of the home, while weвАЩre marching about with flags and shouting? But itвАЩs just to stop women like you being tortured, body and soul, week in, week out, that weвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin had sat down on a chair near one of the windows; she had her handkerchief hiding her face. + 

вАЬWhy women in your position donвАЩt take loversвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ the girl said, hotly. вАЬOr that women in your position do take loversвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin looked up; in spite of its tears her white face had an air of serious dignity. + 

вАЬOh, no, Valentine,вАЭ she said, using her deeper tones. вАЬThereвАЩs something beautiful, thereвАЩs something thrilling about chastity. IвАЩm not narrow-minded. Censorious! I donвАЩt condemn! But to preserve in word, thought and action a lifelong fidelity.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs no mean achievement.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou mean like an egg and spoon race,вАЭ Miss Wannop said. + 

вАЬIt isnвАЩt,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Duchemin replied gently, вАЬthe way I should have put it. IsnвАЩt the real symbol Atalanta, running fast and not turning aside for the golden apple? That always seemed to me the real truth hidden in the beautiful old legend.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know,вАЭ Miss Wannop said, вАЬwhen I read what Ruskin says about it in the Crown of Wild Olive. Or no! ItвАЩs the Queen of the Air. ThatвАЩs his Greek rubbish, isnвАЩt it? I always think it seems like an egg-race in which the young woman didnвАЩt keep her eyes in the boat. But I suppose it comes to the same thing.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin said: + 

вАЬMy dear! Not a word against John Ruskin in this house.вАЭ + 

Miss Wannop screamed. + 

An immense voice had shouted: + 

вАЬThis way! This way!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The ladies will be here!вАЭ + 

Of Mr.¬†DucheminвАЩs curatesвБ†вАФhe had three of them, for he had three marshland parishes almost without stipend, so that no one but a very rich clergyman could have held themвБ†вАФit was observed that they were all very large men with the physiques rather of prizefighters than of clergy. So that when by any chance at dusk, Mr.¬†Duchemin, who himself was of exceptional stature, and his three assistants went together along a road the hearts of any malefactors whom in the mist they chanced to encounter went pit-a-pat. + 

Mr.¬†HorsleyвБ†вАФthe number twoвБ†вАФhad in addition an enormous voice. He shouted four or five words, interjected tee-hee, shouted four or five words more and again interjected tee-hee. He had enormous wrist-bones that protruded from his clerical cuffs, an enormous AdamвАЩs apple, a large, thin, close-cropped, colourless face like a skull, with very sunken eyes, and when he was once started speaking it was impossible to stop him, because his own voice in his ears drowned every possible form of interruption. + 

This morning, as an inmate of the house, introducing to the breakfast-room Messrs. Tietjens and Macmaster, who had driven up to the steps just as he was mounting them, he had a story to tell. The introduction was, therefore, not, as such, a success.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

вАЬA State of Siege, Ladies! Tee-hee!вАЭ he alternately roared and giggled. вАЬWeвАЩre living in a regular state of siege.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ What withвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ It appeared that the night before, after dinner, Mr.¬†Sandbach and rather more than half-a-dozen of the young bloods who had dined at Mountby, had gone scouring the country lanes, mounted on motor bicycles and armed with loaded canesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ for suffragettes! Every woman they had come across in the darkness they had stopped, abused, threatened with their loaded canes and subjected to cross-examination. The countryside was up in arms. + 

As a story this took, with the appropriate reflections and repetitions, a long time in telling, and afforded Tietjens and Miss Wannop the opportunity of gazing at each other. Miss Wannop was frankly afraid that this large, clumsy, unusual-looking man, now that he had found her again, might hand her over to the police whom she imagined to be searching for herself, and her friend Gertie, Miss Wilson, at that moment in bed, under the care, as she also imagined, of Mrs.¬†Wannop. On the links he had seemed to her natural and in place; here, with his loosely hung clothes and immense hands, the white patch on the side of his rather cropped head and his masked rather shapeless features, he affected her queerly as being both in and out of place. He seemed to go with the ham, the meatpie, the galantine and even at a pinch with the roses; but the Turner pictures, the aesthetic curtain and Mrs.¬†DucheminвАЩs flowing robes, amber and rose in the hair did not go with him at all. Even the Chippendale chairs hardly did. And she felt herself thinking oddly, beneath her perturbations, of a criminal and the voice of the Rev. Horsley that his Harris tweeds went all right with her skirt, and she was glad that she had on a clean, cream-coloured silk blouse, not a striped pink cotton. + 

She was right as to that. + 

In every man there are two minds that work side by side, the one checking the other; thus emotion stands against reason, intellect corrects passion and first impressions act just a little, but very little, before quick reflection. Yet first impressions have always a bias in their favour, and even quiet reflection has often a job to efface them. + 

The night before Tietjens had given several thoughts to this young woman. General Campion had assigned her to him as ma√Ѓtresse en t√Ѓtre. He was said to have ruined himself, broken up his home and spent his wifeвАЩs money on her. Those were lies. On the other hand they were not inherent impossibilities. Upon occasion and given the right woman, quite sound men have done such things. He might, heaven knows, himself be so caught. But that he should have ruined himself over an unnoticeable young female who had announced herself as having been a domestic servant, and wore a pink cotton blouseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that had seemed to go beyond the bounds of even the unreason of club gossip! + 

That was the strong, first impression! It was all very well for his surface mind to say that the girl was not by birth a tweeny maid; she was the daughter of Professor Wannop and she could jump! For Tietjens held very strongly the theory that what finally separated the classes was that the upper could lift its feet from the ground whilst common people couldnвАЩt.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But the strong impression remained. Miss Wannop was a tweeny maid. Say a ladyвАЩs help, by nature. She was of good family, for the Wannops were first heard of at Birdlip in Gloucestershire in the year 1417вБ†вАФno doubt enriched after Agincourt. But even brilliant men of good family will now and then throw daughters who are lady helps by nature. That was one of the queernesses of heredity.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And, though Tietjens had even got as far as to realise that Miss Wannop must be a heroine who had sacrificed her young years to her motherвАЩs gifts, and no doubt to a brother at schoolвБ†вАФfor he had guessed as far as thatвБ†вАФeven then Tietjens couldnвАЩt make her out as more than a lady help. Heroines are all very well; admirable, they may even be saints; but if they let themselves get careworn in face and go shabby.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Well, they must wait for the gold that shall be amply stored for them in heaven. On this earth you could hardly accept them as wives for men of your own set. Certainly you wouldnвАЩt spend your own wifeвАЩs money on them. That was what it really came to. + 

But, brightened up as he now suddenly saw her, with silk for the pink cotton, shining coiled hair for the white canvas hat, a charming young neck, good shoes beneath neat ankles, a healthy flush taking the place of yesterdayвАЩs pallor of fear for her comrade; an obvious equal in the surroundings of quite good people; small, but well-shaped and healthy; immense blue eyes fixed without embarrassment on his own.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

вАЬBy JoveвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ he said to himself: вАЬItвАЩs true! What a jolly little mistress sheвАЩd make!вАЭ + 

He blamed Campion, Sandbach and the club gossips for the form the thought had taken. For the cruel, bitter and stupid pressure of the world has yet about it something selective; if it couples male and female in its inexorable rings of talk it will be because there is something harmonious in the union. And there exists then the pressure of suggestion! + 

He took a look at Mrs.¬†Duchemin and considered her infinitely commonplace and probably a bore. He disliked her large-shouldered, many-yarded style of blue dress and considered that no woman should wear clouded amber, for which the proper function was the provision of cigarette holders for bounders. He looked back at Miss Wannop, and considered that she would make a good wife for Macmaster; Macmaster liked bouncing girls and this girl was quite lady enough. + 

He heard Miss Wannop shout against the gale to Mrs.¬†Duchemin: + 

вАЬDo I sit beside the head of the table and pour out?вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin answered: + 

вАЬNo! IвАЩve asked Miss Fox to pour out. SheвАЩs nearly stone deaf.вАЭ Miss Fox was the penniless sister of a curate deceased. вАЬYouвАЩre to amuse Mr.¬†Tietjens.вАЭ + 

Tietjens noticed that Mrs.¬†Duchemin had an agreeable turret voice; it penetrated the noises of Mr.¬†Horsley as the missel-thrushвАЩs note a gale. It was rather agreeable. He noticed that Miss Wannop made a little grimace. + 

Mr.¬†Horsley, like a megaphone addressing a crowd, was turning from side to side, addressing his hearers by rotation. At the moment he was bawling at Macmaster; it would be TietjensвАЩ turn again in a moment to hear a description of the heart attacks of old Mrs.¬†Haglen at Nobeys. But TietjensвАЩ turn did not come.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

A high-complexioned, round-cheeked, forty-fivish lady, with agreeable eyes, dressed rather well in the black of the not-very-lately widowed, entered the room with precipitation. She patted Mr.¬†Horsley on his declamatory right arm and, since he went on talking, she caught him by the hand and shook it. She exclaimed in high, commanding tones: + 

вАЬWhich is Mr.¬†Macmaster, the critic?вАЭ and then, in the dead lull to Tietjens: вАЬAre you Mr.¬†Macmaster, the critic? No!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Then you must be.вАЭ + 

Her turning to Macmaster and the extinction of her interest in himself had been one of the rudest things Tietjens had ever experienced, but it was an affair so strictly businesslike that he took it without any offence. She was remarking to Macmaster: + 

вАЬOh, Mr.¬†Macmaster, my new book will be out on Thursday week,вАЭ and she had begun to lead him towards a window at the other end of the room. + 

Miss Wannop said: + 

вАЬWhat have you done with Gertie?вАЭ + 

вАЬGertie!вАЭ Mrs.¬†Wannop exclaimed with the surprise of one coming out of a dream. вАЬOh yes! SheвАЩs fast asleep. SheвАЩll sleep till four. I told Hannah to give a look at her now and then.вАЭ + 

Miss WannopвАЩs hands fell open at her side. + 

вАЬOh, mother!вАЭ forced itself from her. + 

вАЬOh, yes,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Wannop said, вАЬweвАЩd agreed to tell old Hannah we didnвАЩt want her today. So we had!вАЭ She said to Macmaster: вАЬOld Hannah is our charwoman,вАЭ wavered a little and then went on brightly: вАЬOf course it will be of use to you to hear about my new book. To you journalists a little bit of previous explanationвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ and she dragged off Macmaster, who seemed to bleat faintly.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

That had come about because just as she had got into the dogcart to be driven to the rectoryвБ†вАФfor she herself could not drive a horseвБ†вАФMiss Wannop had told her mother that there would be two men at breakfast, one whose name she didnвАЩt know; the other, a Mr.¬†Macmaster, a celebrated critic. Mrs.¬†Wannop had called up to her: + 

вАЬA critic? Of what?вАЭ her whole sleepy being electrified. + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know,вАЭ her daughter had answered. вАЬBooks, I daresay.вАЭ + 

A second or so after, when the horse, a large black animal that wouldnвАЩt stand, had made twenty yards or so at several bounds, the handy man who drove had said: + 

вАЬYer motherвАЩs вАЩowlinвАЩ after yer.вАЭ But Miss Wannop had answered that it didnвАЩt matter. She was confident that she had arranged for everything. She was to be back to get lunch; her mother was to give an occasional look at Gertie Wilson in the garret; Hannah, the daily help, was to be told she could go for the day. It was of the highest importance that Hannah should not know that a completely strange young woman was asleep in the garret at eleven in the morning. If she did, the news would be all over the neighbourhood at once, and the police instantly down on them. + 

But Mrs.¬†Wannop was a woman of business. If she heard of a reviewer within driving distance she called on him with eggs as a present. The moment the daily help had arrived, she had set out and walked to the rectory. No consideration of danger from the police would have stopped her; besides, she had forgotten all about the police. + 

Her arrival worried Mrs.¬†Duchemin a good deal, because she wished all her guests to be seated and the breakfast well begun before the entrance of her husband. And this was not easy. Mrs.¬†Wannop, who was uninvited, refused to be separated from Mr.¬†Macmaster. Mr.¬†Macmaster had told her that he never wrote reviews in the daily papers, only articles for the heavy quarterlies, and it had occurred to Mrs.¬†Wannop that an article on her new book in one of the quarterlies was just what was needed. She was, therefore, engaged in telling Mr.¬†Macmaster how to write about herself, and twice after Mrs.¬†Duchemin had succeeded in shepherding Mr.¬†Macmaster nearly to his seat, Mrs.¬†Wannop had conducted him back to the embrasure of the window. It was only by sitting herself firmly in her chair next to Macmaster that Mrs.¬†Duchemin was able to retain for herself this all-essential, strategic position. And it was only by calling out: + 

вАЬMr.¬†Horsley, do take Mrs.¬†Wannop to the seat beside you and feed her,вАЭ that Mrs.¬†Duchemin got Mrs.¬†Wannop out of Mr.¬†DucheminвАЩs own seat at the head of the table, for Mrs.¬†Wannop, having perceived this seat to be vacant and next to Mr.¬†Macmaster, had pulled out the Chippendale armchair and had prepared to sit down in it. This could only have spelt disaster, for it would have meant turning Mrs.¬†DucheminвАЩs husband loose amongst the other guests. + 

Mr.¬†Horsley, however, accomplished his duty of leading away this lady with such firmness that Mrs.¬†Wannop conceived of him as a very disagreeable and awkward person. Mr.¬†HorsleyвАЩs seat was next to Miss Fox, a grey spinster, who sat, as it were, within the fortification of silver urns and deftly occupied herself with the ivory taps of these machines. This seat, too, Mrs.¬†Wannop tried to occupy, imagining that, by moving the silver vases that upheld the tall delphiniums, she would be able to get a diagonal view of Macmaster and so to shout to him. She found, however, that she couldnвАЩt, and so resigned herself to taking the chair that had been reserved for Miss Gertie Wilson, who was to have been the eighth guest. Once there she sat in distracted gloom, occasionally saying to her daughter: + 

вАЬI think itвАЩs very bad management. I think this partyвАЩs very badly arranged.вАЭ Mr.¬†Horsley she hardly thanked for the sole that he placed before her; Tietjens she did not even look at. + 

Sitting beside Macmaster, her eyes fixed on a small door in the corner of a panelled wall, Mrs.¬†Duchemin became a prey to a sudden and overwhelming fit of apprehension. It forced her to say to her guest, though she had resolved to chance it and say nothing: + 

вАЬIt wasnвАЩt perhaps fair to ask you to come all this way. You may get nothing out of my husband. HeвАЩs aptвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ especially on Saturdays.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She trailed off into indecision. It was possible that nothing might occur. On two Saturdays out of seven nothing did occur. Then an admission would be wasted; this sympathetic being would go out of her life with a knowledge that he neednвАЩt have hadвБ†вАФto be a slur on her memory in his mind.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But then, overwhelmingly, there came over her the feeling that, if he knew of her sufferings, he might feel impelled to remain and comfort her. She cast about for words with which to finish her sentence. But Macmaster said: + 

вАЬOh, dear lady!вАЭ (And it seemed to her to be charming to be addressed thus!) вАЬOne understandsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ One is surely trained and adapted to understandвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ that these great scholars, these abstracted cognoscentiвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin breathed a great вАЬAh!вАЭ of relief. Macmaster had used the exactly right words. + 

вАЬAnd,вАЭ Macmaster was going on, вАЬmerely to spend a short hour; a swallow flightвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАШAs when the swallow gliding from lofty portal to lofty portalвАЩвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You know the linesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ in these, your perfect surroundingsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Blissful waves seemed to pass from him to her. It was in this way that men should speak; in that wayвБ†вАФsteel-blue tie, true-looking gold ring, steel-blue eyes beneath black brows!вБ†вАФthat men should look. She was half-conscious of warmth; this suggested the bliss of falling asleep, truly, in perfect surroundings. The roses on the table were lovely; their scent came to her. + 

A voice came to her: + 

вАЬYou do do the thing in style, I must say.вАЭ + 

The large, clumsy but otherwise unnoticeable being that this fascinating man had brought in his train was setting up pretensions to her notice. He had just placed before her a small blue china plate that contained a little black caviar and a round of lemon; a small S√®vres, pinkish, delicate plate that held the pinkest peach in the room. She had said to him: вАЬOhвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a little caviar! A peach!вАЭ a long time before, with the vague underfeeling that the names of such comestibles must convey to her person a charm in the eyes of Caliban. + 

She buckled about her her armour of charm; Tietjens was gazing with large, fishish eyes at the caviar before her. + 

вАЬHow do you get that, for instance?вАЭ he asked. + 

вАЬOh!вАЭ she answered: вАЬIf it wasnвАЩt my husbandвАЩs doing it would look like ostentation. IвАЩd find it ostentatious for myself.вАЭ She found a smile, radiant, yet muted. вАЬHeвАЩs trained Simpkins of New Bond Street. For a telephone message overnight special messengers go to Billingsgate at dawn for salmon, and red mullet, this, in ice, and great blocks of ice, too. ItвАЩs such pretty stuffвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and then by seven the car goes to Ashford Junction.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ All the same, itвАЩs difficult to give a breakfast before ten.вАЭ + 

She didnвАЩt want to waste her careful sentences on this grey fellow; she couldnвАЩt, however, turn back, as she yearned to do, to the kindredly running phrasesвБ†вАФas if out of books she had read!вБ†вАФof the smaller man. + 

вАЬAh, but it isnвАЩt,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬostentation. ItвАЩs the great Tradition. You mustnвАЩt ever forget that your husbandвАЩs Breakfast Duchemin of Magdalen.вАЭ + 

He seemed to be gazing, inscrutably, deep into her eyes. But no doubt he meant to be agreeable. + 

вАЬSometimes I wish I could,вАЭ she said. вАЬHe doesnвАЩt get anything out of it himself. HeвАЩs ascetic to unreasonableness. On Fridays he eats nothing at all. It makes me quite anxiousвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ for Saturdays.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬI know.вАЭ + 

She exclaimedвБ†вАФand almost with sharpness: + 

вАЬYou know!вАЭ + 

He continued to gaze straight into her eyes: + 

вАЬOh, of course one knows all about Breakfast Duchemin!вАЭ he said. вАЬHe was one of RuskinвАЩs road-builders. He was said to be the most Ruskin-like of them all!вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin cried out: вАЬOh!вАЭ Fragments of the worst stories that in his worst moods her husband had told her of his old preceptor went through her mind. She imagined that the shameful parts of her intimate life must be known to this nebulous monster. For Tietjens, turned sideways and facing her, had seemed to grow monstrous, and as if with undefined outlines. He was the male, threatening, clumsily odious and external! She felt herself say to herself: вАЬI will do you an injury, if everвБ†вАФвАЭ For already she had felt herself swaying the preferences, the thoughts and the future of the man on her other side. He was the male, tender, in-fitting; the complement of the harmony, the meat for consumption, like the sweet pulp of figs.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It was inevitable; it was essential to the nature of her relationship with her husband that Mrs.¬†Duchemin should have these feelings.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

She heard, almost without emotion, so great was her disturbance, from behind her back the dreaded, high, rasping tones: + 

вАЬPost coitum tristia! Ha! Ha. ThatвАЩs what it is?вАЭ The voice repeated the words and added sardonically: вАЬYou know what that means?вАЭ But the problem of her husband had become secondary; the real problem was: вАЬWhat was this monstrous and hateful man going to say of her to his friend, when, for long hours, they were away?вАЭ + 

He was still gazing into her eyes. He said nonchalantly, rather low: + 

вАЬI wouldnвАЩt look round if I were you. Vincent Macmaster is quite up to dealing with the situation.вАЭ + 

His voice had the familiarity of an elder brotherвАЩs. And at once Mrs.¬†Duchemin knewвБ†вАФthat he knew that already close ties were developing between herself and Macmaster. He was speaking as a man speaks in emergencies to the mistress of his dearest friend. He was then one of those formidable and to be feared males who possess the gift of right intuitions.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Tietjens said: вАЬYou heard!вАЭ + 

To the gloating, cruel tones that had asked: + 

вАЬYou know what that means?вАЭ Macmaster had answered clearly, but with the snappy intonation of a reproving Don: + 

вАЬOf course I know what it means. ItвАЩs no discovery!вАЭ That was exactly the right note. TietjensвБ†вАФand Mrs.¬†Duchemin tooвБ†вАФcould hear Mr.¬†Duchemin, invisible behind his rampart of blue spikes and silver, give the answering snuffle of a reproved schoolboy. A hard-faced, small man, in grey tweed that buttoned, collar-like, tight round his throat, standing behind the invisible chair, gazed straight forward into infinity. + 

Tietjens said to himself: + 

вАЬBy God! Parry! the Bermondsey light middleweight! HeвАЩs there to carry Duchemin off if he becomes violent!вАЭ + 

During the quick look that Tietjens took round the table Mrs.¬†Duchemin gave, sinking lower in her chair, a short gasp of utter relief. Whatever Macmaster was going to think of her, he thought now. He knew the worst! It was settled, for good or ill. In a minute she would look round at him. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬItвАЩs all right, Macmaster will be splendid. We had a friend up at Cambridge with your husbandвАЩs tendencies, and Macmaster could get him through any social occasion.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Besides, weвАЩre all gentlefolk here!вАЭ + 

He had seen the Rev. Horsley and Mrs.¬†Wannop both interested in their plates. Of Miss Wannop he was not so certain. He had caught, bent obviously on himself, from large, blue eyes, a glance that was evidently appealing. He said to himself: вАЬShe must be in the secret. SheвАЩs appealing to me not to show emotion and upset the applecart! It is a shame that she should be here: a girl!вАЭ and into his answering glance he threw the message: вАЬItвАЩs all right as far as this end of the table is concerned.вАЭ + 

But Mrs.¬†Duchemin had felt come into herself a little stiffening of morale. Macmaster by now knew the worst; Duchemin was quoting snuffingly to him the hot licentiousness of the Trimalchion of Petronius; snuffing into MacmasterвАЩs ear. She caught the phrase: Festinans, puer callide.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Duchemin, holding her wrist with the painful force of the maniac, had translated it to her over and over again.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ No doubt that, too, this hateful man beside her would have guessed! + 

She said: вАЬOf course we should be all gentlefolk here. One naturally arranges that.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens began to say: + 

вАЬAh! But it isnвАЩt so easy to arrange nowadays. All sorts of bounders get into all sorts of holies of holies!вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin turned her back on him right in the middle of his sentence. She devoured MacmasterвАЩs face with her eyes, in an infinite sense of calm. + 

Macmaster four minutes before had been the only one to see the entrance, from a small panelled door that had behind it another of green baize, of the Rev. Mr.¬†Duchemin, and following him a man whom Macmaster, too, recognised at once as Parry, the ex-prize fighter. It flashed through his mind at once that this was an extraordinary conjunction. It flashed through his mind, too, that it was extraordinary that anyone so ecstatically handsome as Mrs.¬†DucheminвАЩs husband should not have earned high preferment in a church always hungry for male beauty. Mr.¬†Duchemin was extremely tall, with a slight stoop of the proper clerical type. His face was of alabaster; his grey hair, parted in the middle, fell brilliantly on his high brows; his glance was quick, penetrating, austere; his nose very hooked and chiselled. He was the exact man to adorn a lofty and gorgeous fane, as Mrs.¬†Duchemin was the exact woman to consecrate an episcopal drawing-room. With his great wealth, scholarship and tradition.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАЬWhy then,вАЭ went through Macmasters mind in a swift pinprick of suspicion, вАЬisnвАЩt he at least a dean?вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Duchemin had walked swiftly to his chair which Parry, as swiftly walking behind him, drew out. His master slipped into it with a graceful, sideways motion. He shook his head at grey Miss Fox who had moved a hand towards an ivory urn-tap. There was a glass of water beside his plate, and round it his long, very white fingers closed. He stole a quick glance at Macmaster and then looked at him steadily with laughingly glittering eyes. He said: вАЬGood morning, doctor,вАЭ and then, drowning MacmasterвАЩs quiet protest: вАЬYes! Yes! The stethoscope meticulously packed into the top-hat and the shining hat left in the hall.вАЭ + 

The prizefighter, in tight box-cloth leggings, tight whipcord breeches, and a short tight jacket that buttoned up at the collar to his chinвБ†вАФthe exact stud-groom of a man of property, gave a quick glance of recognition to Macmaster and then to Mr.¬†DucheminвАЩs back another quick look, raising his eyebrows. Macmaster, who knew him very well because he had given Tietjens boxing lessons at Cambridge, could almost hear him say: вАЬA queer change this, sir! Keep your eyes on him a second!вАЭ and, with the quick, light tiptoe of the pugilist he slipped away to the sideboard. Macmaster stole a quick glance on his own account at Mrs.¬†Duchemin. She had her back to him, being deep in conversation with Tietjens. His heart jumped a little when, looking back again, he saw Mr.¬†Duchemin, half raised to his feet, peering round the fortifications of silver. But he sank down again in his chair, and surveying Macmaster with an expression of cunning singular on his ascetic features, exclaimed: + 

вАЬAnd your friend? Another medical man! All with stethoscope complete. It takes, of course, two medical man to certifyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He stopped and with an expression of sudden, distorted rage, pushed aside the arm of Parry, who was sliding a plate of sole-fillets on to the table beneath his nose. + 

вАЬTake away,вАЭ he was beginning to exclaim thunderously, вАЬthese conducements to the filthy lusts ofвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ But with another cunning and apprehensive look at Macmaster, he said: вАЬYes! yes! Parry! ThatвАЩs right. Yes! Sole! A touch of kidney to follow. Another! Yes! Grapefruit! With sherry!вАЭ He had adopted an old Oxford voice, spread his napkin over his knees and hastily placed in his mouth a morsel of fish. + 

Macmaster with a patient and distinct intonation said that he must be permitted to introduce himself. He was Macmaster, Mr.¬†DucheminвАЩs correspondent on the subject of his little monograph. Mr.¬†Duchemin looked at him, hard, with an awakened attention that gradually lost suspicion and became gloatingly joyful: + 

вАЬAh, yes, Macmaster!вАЭ he said. вАЬMacmaster. A budding critic. A little of a hedonist perhaps? And yesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ you wired that you were coming. Two friends! Not medical men! Friends!вАЭ He moved his face closer to Macmaster and said: + 

вАЬHow tired you look! Worn! Worn!вАЭ + 

Macmaster was about to say that he was rather hard-worked when, in a harsh, high cackle close to his face, there came the Latin words. Mrs.¬†DucheminвБ†вАФand Tietjens!вБ†вАФhad heard. He knew then what he was up against. He took another look at the prizefighter; moved his head to one side to catch a momentary view of the gigantic Mr.¬†Horsley, whose size took on a new meaning. Then he settled down in his chair and ate a kidney. The physical force present was no doubt enough to suppress Mr.¬†Duchemin should he become violent. And trained! It was one of the curious, minor coincidences of life that, at Cambridge, he had once thought of hiring this very Parry to follow round his dear friend Sim. Sim, the most brilliant of sardonic ironists, sane, decent and ordinarily a little prudish on the surface, had been subject to just such temporary lapses as Mr.¬†Duchemin. On society occasions he would stand up and shout or sit down and whisper the most unthinkable indecencies. Macmaster, who had loved him very much, had run round with Sim as often as he could, and had thus gained skill in dealing with these manifestations.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He felt suddenly a certain pleasure! He thought he might gain prestige in the eyes of Mrs.¬†Duchemin if he dealt quietly and efficiently with this situation. It might even lead to an intimacy. He asked nothing better! + 

He knew that Mrs.¬†Duchemin had turned towards him: he could feel her listening and observing him; it was as if her glance was warm on his cheek. But he did not look round; he had to keep his eyes on the gloating face of her husband. Mr.¬†Duchemin was quoting Petronius, leaning towards his guest. Macmaster consumed kidneys stiffly. + 

He said: + 

вАЬThat isnвАЩt the amended version of the iambics. Willamovitz M√ґllendorf that we usedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

To interrupt him Mr.¬†Duchemin put his thin hand courteously on MacmasterвАЩs arm. It had a great cornelian seal set in red gold on the third finger. He went on, reciting in ecstasy; his head a little on one side as if he were listening to invisible choristers. Macmaster really disliked the Oxford intonation of Latin. He looked for a short moment at Mrs.¬†Duchemin; her eyes were upon him; large, shadowy, full of gratitude. He saw, too, that they were welling over with wetness. + 

He looked quickly back at Duchemin. And suddenly it came to him; she was suffering! She was probably suffering intensely. It had not occurred to him that she would sufferвБ†вАФpartly because he was without nerves himself, partly because he had conceived of Mrs.¬†Duchemin as firstly feeling admiration for himself. Now it seemed to him abominable that she should suffer. + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin was in an agony. Macmaster had looked at her intently and looked away! She read into his glance contempt for her situation, and anger that he should have been placed in such a position. In her pain she stretched out her hand and touched his arm. + 

Macmaster was aware of her touch; his mind seemed filled with sweetness. But he kept his head obstinately averted. For her sake he did not dare to look away from the maniacal face. A crisis was coming. Mr.¬†Duchemin had arrived at the English translation. He placed his hands on the tablecloth in preparation for rising; he was going to stand on his feet and shout obscenities wildly to the other guests. It was the exact moment. + 

Macmaster made his voice dry and penetrating to say: + 

вАЬвАКвАШYouth of tepid lovesвАЩ is a lamentable rendering of puer callide! ItвАЩs lamentably antiquatedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Duchemin chewed and said: + 

вАЬWhat? What? WhatвАЩs that?вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs just like Oxford to use an eighteenth century crib. I suppose thatвАЩs Whiston and Ditton? Something like thatвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He observed Duchemin, brought out of his impulse, to be waveringвБ†вАФas if he were coming awake in a strange place! He added: + 

вАЬAnyhow itвАЩs wretched schoolboy smut. Fifth form. Or not even that. Have some galantine. IвАЩm going to. Your soleвАЩs cold.вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Duchemin looked down at his plate. + 

вАЬYes! Yes!вАЭ he muttered. вАЬYes! With sugar and vinegar sauce!вАЭ The prizefighter slipped away to the sideboard, an admirable quiet fellow; as unobtrusive as a burying beetle. Macmaster said: + 

вАЬYou were about to tell me something for my little monograph. What became of MaggieвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Maggie Simpson. The Scots girl who was model for Alla Finestra del Cielo?вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Duchemin looked at Macmaster with sane, muddled, rather exhausted eyes: + 

вАЬAlla Finestra!вАЭ he exclaimed: вАЬOh yes! IвАЩve got the watercolour. I saw her sitting for it and bought it on the spot.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He looked again at his plate, started at sight of the galantine and began to eat ravenously: вАЬA beautiful girl!вАЭ he said. вАЬVery long neckedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ She wasnвАЩt of courseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ehвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ respectable! SheвАЩs living yet, I think. Very old. I saw her two years ago. She had a lot of pictures. Relics of course!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ In the Whitechapel Road she lived. She was naturally of that class.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He went muttering on, his head over his plate. Macmaster considered that the fit was over. He was irresistibly impelled to turn to Mrs.¬†Duchemin; her face was rigid, stiff. He said swiftly: + 

вАЬIf heвАЩll eat a little: get his stomach filledвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It calls the blood down from the head.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬOh, forgive! ItвАЩs dreadful for you! Myself I will never forgive!вАЭ + 

He said: + 

вАЬNo! No!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Why; itвАЩs what IвАЩm for!вАЭ + 

A deep emotion brought her whole white face to life. + 

вАЬOh, you good man!вАЭ she said in her profound tones, and they remained gazing at each other. + 

Suddenly, from behind MacmasterвАЩs back, Mr.¬†Duchemin shouted: + 

вАЬI say he made a settlement on her, duma casta et sola, of course. Whilst she remained chaste and alone!вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Duchemin, suddenly feeling the absence of the powerful will that had seemed to overweigh his own like a great force in the darkness, was on his feet, panting and delighted: + 

вАЬChaste!вАЭ He shouted. вАЬChaste, you observe! What a world of suggestion in the wordвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He surveyed the opulent broadness of his tablecloth; it spread out before his eyes as if it had been a great expanse of meadow in which he could gallop, relaxing his limbs after long captivity. He shouted three obscene words and went on in his Oxford Movement voice: вАЬBut chastityвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Wannop suddenly said: + 

вАЬOh!вАЭ and looked at her daughter, whose face grew slowly crimson as she continued to peel a peach. Mrs.¬†Wannop turned to Mr.¬†Horsley beside her and said: + 

вАЬYou write, too, I believe, Mr.¬†Horsley. No doubt something more learned than my poor readers would care forвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Mr.¬†Horsley had been preparing, according to his instructions from Mrs.¬†Duchemin, to shout a description of an article he had been writing about the Mosella of Ausonius, but as he was slow in starting the lady got in first. She talked on serenely about the tastes of the large public. Tietjens leaned across to Miss Wannop and, holding in his right hand a half-peeled fig, said to her as loudly as he could: + 

вАЬIвАЩve got a message for you from Mr.¬†Waterhouse. He says if youвАЩllвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The completely deaf Miss FoxвБ†вАФwho had had her training by writingвБ†вАФremarked diagonally to Mrs.¬†Duchemin: + 

вАЬI think we shall have thunder today. Have you remarked the number of minute insects.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬWhen my revered preceptor,вАЭ Mr.¬†Duchemin thundered on, вАЬdrove away in the carriage on his wedding day he said to his bride: вАШWe will live like the blessed angels!вАЩ How sublime! I, too, after my nuptialsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin suddenly screamed: + 

вАЬOhвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ no!вАЭ + 

As if checked for a moment in their stride all the others pausedвБ†вАФfor a breath. Then they continued talking with polite animation and listening with minute attention. To Tietjens that seemed the highest achievement and justification of English manners! + 

Parry, the prizefighter, had twice caught his master by the arm and shouted that breakfast was getting cold. He said now to Macmaster that he and the Rev. Horsley could get Mr.¬†Duchemin away, but thereвАЩd be a hell of a fight. Macmaster whispered: вАЬWait!вАЭ and, turning to Mrs.¬†Duchemin he said: вАЬI can stop him. Shall I?вАЭ She said: + 

вАЬYes! Yes! Anything!вАЭ He observed tears; isolated upon her cheeks, a thing he had never seen. With caution and with hot rage he whispered into the prizefighterвАЩs hairy ear that was held down to him: + 

вАЬPunch him in the kidney. With your thumb. As hard as you can without breaking your thumbвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Mr.¬†Duchemin had just declaimed: + 

вАЬI, too, after my nuptialsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He began to wave his arms, pausing and looking from unlistening face to unlistening face. Mrs.¬†Duchemin had just screamed. + 

Mr.¬†Duchemin thought that the arrow of God struck him. He imagined himself an unworthy messenger. In such pain as he had never conceived of he fell into his chair and sat huddled up, a darkness covering his eyes. + 

вАЬHe wonвАЩt get up again,вАЭ Macmaster whispered to the appreciative pugilist. вАЬHeвАЩll want to. But heвАЩll be afraid to.вАЭ + 

He said to Mrs.¬†Duchemin: + 

вАЬDearest lady! ItвАЩs all over. I assure you of that. ItвАЩs a scientific nerve counterirritant.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin said: + 

вАЬForgive!вАЭ with one deep sob: вАЬYou can never respectвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She felt her eyes explore his face as the wretch in a cell explores the face of his executioner for a sign of pardon. Her heart stayed still: her breath suspended itself.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Then complete heaven began. Upon her left palm she felt cool fingers beneath the cloth. This man knew always the exact right action! Upon the fingers, cool, like spikenard and ambrosia, her fingers closed themselves. + 

In complete bliss, in a quiet room, his voice went on talking. At first with great neatness of phrase, but with what refinement! He explained that certain excesses being merely nervous cravings, can be combated if not, indeed, cured altogether, by the fear of, by the determination not to ensue, sharp physical painвБ†вАФwhich of course is a nervous matter, too!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Parry, at a given moment, had said into his masterвАЩs ear: + 

вАЬItвАЩs time you prepared your sermon for tomorrow, sir,вАЭ and Mr.¬†Duchemin had gone as quietly as he had arrived, gliding over the thick carpet to the small door. + 

Then Macmaster said to her: + 

вАЬYou come from Edinburgh? YouвАЩll know the Fifeshire coast then.вАЭ + 

вАЬDo I not?вАЭ she said. His hand remained in hers. He began to talk of the whins on the links and the sanderlings along the flats, with such a Scots voice and in phrases so vivid that she saw her childhood again, and had in her eyes a wetness of a happier order. She released his cool hand after a long gentle pressure. But when it was gone it was as if much of her life went. She said: вАЬYouвАЩll be knowing Kingussie House, just outside your town. It was there I spent my holidays as a child.вАЭ + 

He answered: + 

вАЬMaybe I played round it a barefoot lad and you in your grandeur within.вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬOh, no! Hardly! There would be the difference of our ages! AndвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And indeed there are other things I will tell you.вАЭ + 

She addressed herself to Tietjens, with all her heroic armour of charm buckled on again: + 

вАЬOnly think! I find Mr.¬†Macmaster and I almost played together in our youths.вАЭ + 

He looked at her, she knew, with a commiseration that she hated: + 

вАЬThen youвАЩre an older friend than I,вАЭ he asked, вАЬthough IвАЩve known him since I was fourteen, and I donвАЩt believe you could be a better. HeвАЩs a good fellow.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She hated him for his condescension towards a better man and for his warningвБ†вАФshe knew it was a warningвБ†вАФto her to spare his friend. + 

Mrs.¬†Wannop gave a distinct, but not an alarming, scream. Mr.¬†Horsley had been talking to her about an unusual fish that used to inhabit the Moselle in Roman times. The Mosella of Ausonius, the subject of the essay he was writing, is mostly about fish.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

вАЬNo,вАЭ he shouted, вАЬitвАЩs been said to be the roach. But there are no roach in the river now. Vannulis viridis, oculisque. No. ItвАЩs the other way round: Red finsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†WannopвАЩs scream and her wide gestureвБ†вАФher hand, indeed, was nearly over his mouth and her trailing sleeve across his plate!вБ†вАФwere enough to interrupt him. + 

вАЬTietjens!вАЭ she again screamed. вАЬIs it possible?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She pushed her daughter out of her seat and, moving round beside the young man, she overwhelmed him with vociferous love. As Tietjens had turned to speak to Mrs.¬†Duchemin she had recognised his aquiline half-profile as exactly that of his father at her own wedding-breakfast. To the table that knew it by heartвБ†вАФthough Tietjens himself didnвАЩt!вБ†вАФshe recited the story of how his father had saved her life, and was her mascot. And she offered the sonвБ†вАФfor to the father she had never been allowed to make any returnвБ†вАФher horse, her purse, her heart, her time, her all. She was so completely sincere that, as the party broke up, she just nodded to Macmaster and, catching Tietjens forcibly by the arm, said perfunctorily to the critic: + 

вАЬSorry I canвАЩt help you any more with the article. But my dear Chrissie must have the books he wants. At once! This very minute!вАЭ + 

She moved off, Tietjens grappled to her, her daughter following as a young swan follows its parents. In her gracious manner Mrs.¬†Duchemin had received the thanks of her guests for her wonderful breakfast and had hoped that now that they had found their ways there.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

The echoes of the dispersed festival seemed to whisper in the room. Macmaster and Mrs.¬†Duchemin faced each other, their eyes waryвБ†вАФand longing. + 

He said: + 

вАЬItвАЩs dreadful to have to go now. But I have an engagement.вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬYes! I know! With your great friends.вАЭ + 

He answered: + 

вАЬOh, only with Mr.¬†Waterhouse and General CampionвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and Mr.¬†Sandbach, of courseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She had a moment of fierce pleasure at the thought that Tietjens was not to be of the company: her man would be out-soaring the vulgarian of his youth, of his past that she didnвАЩt know.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Almost harshly she exclaimed: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt want you to be mistaken about Kingussie House. It was just a holiday school. Not a grand place.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt was very costly,вАЭ he said, and she seemed to waver on her feet. + 

вАЬYes! yes!вАЭ she said, nearly in a whisper. вАЬBut youвАЩre so grand now! I was only the child of very poor bodies. Johnstons of Midlothian. But very poor bodies.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He bought me, you might say. You know.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Put me to very rich schools: when I was fourteenвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ my people were glad.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But I think if my mother had known when I marriedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She writhed her whole body. вАЬOh, dreadful! dreadful!вАЭ she exclaimed. вАЬI want you to knowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

His hands were shaking as if he had been in a jolting cart.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Their lips met in a passion of pity and tears. He removed his mouth to say: вАЬI must see you this evening.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I shall be mad with anxiety about you.вАЭ She whispered: вАЬYes! yes!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ In the yew walk.вАЭ Her eyes were closed, she pressed her body fiercely into his. вАЬYou are theвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ firstвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ manвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ she breathed. + 

вАЬI will be the only one forever,вАЭ he said. + 

He began to see himself: in the tall room, with the long curtains: a round, eagle mirror reflected them gleaming: like a bejewelled picture with great depths: the entwined figures. + 

They drew apart to gaze at each other: holding hands.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The voice of Tietjens said: + 

вАЬMacmaster! YouвАЩre to dine at Mrs.¬†WannopвАЩs tonight. DonвАЩt dress; I shanвАЩt.вАЭ He was looking at them without any expression, as if he had interrupted a game of cards; large, grey, fresh-featured, the white patch glistening on the side of his grizzling hair. + 

Macmaster said: + 

вАЬAll right. ItвАЩs near here, isnвАЩt it?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve got an engagement just afterвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Tietjens said that that would be all right: he would be working himself. All night probably. For WaterhouseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Mrs.¬†Duchemin said with swift jealousy: + 

вАЬYou let him order you aboutвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Tietjens was gone. + 

Macmaster said absently: + 

вАЬWho? Chrissie?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Yes! Sometimes I him, sometimes he me.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ We make engagements. My best friend. The most brilliant man in England, of the best stock too. Tietjens of Groby.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Feeling that she didnвАЩt appreciate his friend he was abstractly piling on commendations: вАЬHeвАЩs making calculations now. For the Government that no other man in England could make. But heвАЩs goingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

An extreme languor had settled on him, he felt weakened but yet triumphant with the cessation of her grasp. It occurred to him numbly that he would be seeing less of Tietjens. A grief. He heard himself quote: + 

вАЬвАКвАШSince when we stand side by side!вАЩвАКвАЭ His voice trembled. + 

вАЬAh yes!вАЭ came in her deep tones: вАЬThe beautiful linesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ TheyвАЩre true. We must part. In this worldвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ They seemed to her lovely and mournful words to say; heavenly to have them to say, vibratingly, arousing all sorts of images. Macmaster, mournfully too, said: + 

вАЬWe must wait.вАЭ He added fiercely: вАЬBut tonight, at dusk!вАЭ He imagined the dusk, under the yew hedge. A shining motor drew up in the sunlight under the window. + 

вАЬYes! yes!вАЭ she said. вАЬThereвАЩs a little white gate from the lane.вАЭ She imagined their interview of passion and mournfulness amongst dim objects half seen. That she could allow herself of glamour. + 

Afterwards he must come to the house to ask after her health and they would walk side by side on the lawn, publicly, in the warm light, talking of indifferent but beautiful poetries, a little wearily, but with what currents electrifying and passing between their flesh.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And then: long, circumspect years.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Macmaster went down the tall steps to the car that gleamed in the summer sun. The roses shone over the supremely levelled turf. His heel met the stones with the hard tread of a conqueror. He could have shouted aloud! + 

VI + 

Tietjens lit a pipe beside the stile, having first meticulously cleaned out the bowl and the stem with a surgical needle, in his experience the best of all pipe-cleaners, since, made of German silver, it is flexible, wonвАЩt corrode and is indestructible. He wiped off methodically, with a great dock-leaf, the glutinous brown products of burnt tobacco, the young woman, as he was aware, watching him from behind his back. As soon as he had restored the surgical needle to the notebook in which it lived, and had put the notebook into its bulky pocket, Miss Wannop moved off down the path: it was only suited for Indian file, and had on the left hand a ten-foot, untrimmed quicken hedge, the hawthorn blossoms just beginning to blacken at the edges and small green haws to show. On the right the grass was above knee high and bowed to those that passed. The sun was exactly vertical; the chaffinchs said: вАЬPink! pink!вАЭ: the young woman had an agreeable back. + 

This, Tietjens thought, is England! A man and a maid walk through Kentish grass fields: the grass ripe for the scythe. The man honourable, clean, upright; the maid virtuous, clean, vigorous: he of good birth; she of birth quite as good; each filled with a too good breakfast that each could yet capably digest. Each come just from an admirably appointed establishment: a table surrounded by the best people: their promenade sanctioned, as it were, by the ChurchвБ†вАФtwo clergyвБ†вАФthe State: two Government officials; by mothers, friends, old maids.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Each knew the names of birds that piped and grasses that bowed: chaffinch, greenfinch, yellow-ammer (not, my dear, hammer; ammer from the Middle High German for вАЬfinchвАЭ), garden warbler, Dartford warbler, pied-wagtail, known as вАЬdishwasher.вАЭ (These charming local dialect names.) Marguerites over the grass, stretching in an infinite white blaze: grasses purple in a haze to the far distant hedgerow: coltsfoot, wild white clover, sainfoin, Italian rye grass (all technical names that the best people must know: the best grass mixture for permanent pasture on the Wealden loam). In the hedge: Our ladyвАЩs bedstraw: dead-nettle: bachelorвАЩs button (but in Sussex they call it ragged robin, my dear): So interesting! cowslip (paigle, you know, from old French pasque, meaning Easter): burr, burdock (farmer that thy wife may thrive, but not burr and burdock wive!); violet leaves, the flowers of course over; black briony; wild clematis: later itвАЩs old manвАЩs beard; purple loosestrife. (That our young maids long purples call and literal shepherds give a grosser name. So racy of the soil!)вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Walk, then, through the field, gallant youth and fair maid, minds cluttered up with all these useless anodynes for thought, quotations, imbecile epithets! Dead silent: unable to talk: from too good breakfast to probably extremely bad lunch. The young woman, so the young man is duly warned, to prepare it: pink india-rubber half-cooked cold beef, no doubt: tepid potatoes, water in the bottom of willow-pattern dish. (No! Not genuine willow-pattern, of course, Mr.¬†Tietjens.) Overgrown lettuce with wood-vinegar to make the mouth scream with pain; pickles, also preserved in wood-vinegar; two bottles of public-house beer that, on opening, squirts to the wall. A glass of invalid portвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ for the gentleman!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and the jaws hardly able to open after the too enormous breakfast at 10:15. Midday now! + 

вАЬGodвАЩs England!вАЭ Tietjens exclaimed to himself in high good humour. вАЬвАКвАШLand of Hope and Glory!вАЩвБ†вАФF natural descending to tonic, C major: chord of 6вБ†вАУвБ†4, suspension over dominant seventh to common chord of C major.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ All absolutely correct! Double basses, cellos, all violins: all wood wind: all brass. Full grand organ: all stops: special vox humana and key-bugle effect.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Across the counties came the sound of bugles that his father knew.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Pipe exactly right. It must be: pipe of Englishman of good birth: ditto tobacco. Attractive young womanвАЩs back. English midday midsummer. Best climate in the world! No day on which man may not go abroad!вАЭ Tietjens paused and aimed with his hazel stick an immense blow at a tall spike of yellow mullein with its undecided, furry, glaucous leaves and its undecided, buttony, unripe lemon-coloured flower. The structure collapsed, gracefully, like a woman killed among crinolines! + 

вАЬNow IвАЩm a bloody murderer!вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬNot gory! Green stained with vital fluid of innocent plantвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And by God! Not a woman in the country who wonвАЩt let you rape her after an hourвАЩs acquaintance!вАЭ He slew two more mulleins and a sow-thistle! A shadow, but not from the sun, a gloom, lay across the sixty acres of purple grass bloom and marguerites, white: like petticoats of lace over the grass! + 

вАЬBy God,вАЭ he said, вАЬChurch! State! Army! H.M. Ministry: H.M. Opposition: H.M. City Man.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ All the governing class! All rotten! Thank God weвАЩve got a navy!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But perhaps thatвАЩs rotten too! Who knows! Britannia needs no bulwarksвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Then thank God for the upright young man and the virtuous maiden in the summer fields: he Tory of the Tories as he should be: she suffragette of the militants: militant here on earthвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ as she should be! As she should be! In the early decades of the twentieth century however else can a woman keep clean and wholesome! Ranting from platforms, splendid for the lungs: bashing in policemenвАЩs helmets.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ No! ItвАЩs I do that: my part, I think, miss!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Carrying heavy banners in twenty mile processions through streets of Sodom. All splendid! I bet sheвАЩs virtuous. But you donвАЩt have to bet. It isnвАЩt done on certainties. You can tell it in the eye. Nice eyes! Attractive back. Virginal cockiness.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Yes, better occupation for mothers of empire than attending on lewd husbands year in year out till youвАЩre as hysterical as a female cat on heat.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You could see it in her: that woman: you can see it in most of вАЩem! Thank God then for the Tory, upright young married man and the suffragette kidвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Backbone of England!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He killed another flower. + 

вАЬBut by God! weвАЩre both under a cloud! Both!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ That kid and I! And General Lord Edward Campion, Lady Claudine Sandbach, and the Hon.¬†Paul, M.P. (suspended), to spread the tale.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And forty toothless fogies in the club to spread it: and no end visiting books yawning to have your names cut out of them, my boy!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ My dear boy: I so regret: your fatherвАЩs oldest friend.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ By Jove, the pistachio nut of that galantine! Repeating! Breakfast gone wrong: gloomy reflections! Thought I could stand anything: digestion of an ostrich.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But no! Gloomy reflections: IвАЩm hysterical: like that large-eyed whore! For same reason! Wrong diet and wrong life: diet meant for partridge shooters over the turnips consumed by the sedentary. England the land of pillsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Das Pillen-Land, the Germans call us. Very properlyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And, damn it: outdoor diet: boiled mutton, turnips: sedentary lifeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and forced up against the filthiness of the world: your nose in it all day long!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Why, hang it, IвАЩm as badly off as she. SylviaвАЩs as bad as Duchemin!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩd never have thought thatвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ No wonder meatвАЩs turned to uric acidвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ prime cause of neurasthenia.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ What a beastly muddle! Poor Macmaster! HeвАЩs finished. Poor devil: heвАЩd better have ogled this kid. He could have sung: вАШHighland MaryвАЩ a better tune than вАШThis is the end of every manвАЩs desireвАЩвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You can cut it on his tombstone, you can write it on his card that a young man tacked on to a paulo-post pre-Raphaelite prostitute.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He stopped suddenly in his walk. It had occurred to him that he ought not to be walking with this girl! + 

вАЬBut damn it all,вАЭ he said to himself, вАЬshe makes a good screen for SylviaвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ who cares! She must chance it. SheвАЩs probably struck off all their beastly visiting lists alreadyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ as a suffragette!вАЭ + 

Miss Wannop, a cricket pitch or so ahead of him, hopped over a stile: left foot on the step, right on the top bar, a touch of the left on the other steps, and down on the white, drifted dust of a road they no doubt had to cross. She stood waiting, her back still to him.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Her nimble footwork, her attractive back, seemed to him, now, infinitely pathetic. To let scandal attach to her was like cutting the wings of a goldfinch: the bright creature, yellow, white, golden and delicate that in the sunlight makes a haze with its wings beside thistle-tops. No; damn it! it was worse; it was worse than putting out, as the bird-fancier does, the eyes of a chaffinch.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Infinitely pathetic! + 

Above the stile, in an elm, a chaffinch said: вАЬPink! pink!вАЭ + 

The imbecile sound filled him with rage; he said to the bird: + 

вАЬDamn your eyes! Have them put out, then!вАЭ The beastly bird that made the odious noise, when it had its eyes put out, at least squealed like any other skylark or tomtit. Damn all birds, field naturalists, botanists! In the same way he addressed the back of Miss Wannop: вАЬDamn your eyes! Have your chastity impugned then? What do you speak to strange men in public for! You know you canвАЩt do it in this country. If it were a decent, straight land like Ireland where people cut each otherвАЩs throats for clean issues: Papist versus ProtвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ well, you could! You could walk through Ireland from east to west and speak to every man you met.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАШRich and rare were the gems she woreвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЩ To every man you met as long as he wasnвАЩt an Englishman of good birth: that would deflower you!вАЭ He was scrambling clumsily over the stile. вАЬWell! be deflowered then: lose your infantile reputation. YouвАЩve spoken to strange pitch: youвАЩre defiledвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ with the benefit of Clergy, Army, Cabinet, Administration, Opposition, mothers and old maids of England.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ TheyвАЩd all tell you you canвАЩt talk to a strange man, in the sunlight, on the links without becoming a screen for some Sylvia or other.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Then be a screen for Sylvia: get struck off the visiting books! The deeper youвАЩre implicated, the more bloody villain I am! IвАЩd like the whole lot to see us here: that would settle it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Nevertheless, when at the roadside he stood level with Miss Wannop who did not look at him, and saw the white road running to right and left with no stile opposite, he said gruffly to her: + 

вАЬWhereвАЩs the next stile? I hate walking on roads!вАЭ She pointed with her chin along the opposite hedgerow. вАЬFifty yards!вАЭ she said. + 

вАЬCome along!вАЭ he exclaimed, and set off at a trot almost. It had come into his head that it would be just the beastly sort of thing that would happen if a car with General Campion and Lady Claudine and Paul Sandbach all aboard should come along that blinding stretch of road: or one alone: perhaps the General driving the dogcart he affected. He said to himself: + 

вАЬBy God! If they cut this girl IвАЩd break their backs over my knee!вАЭ and he hastened. вАЬJust the beastly thing that would happen.вАЭ The road probably led straight in at the front door of Mountby! + 

Miss Wannop trotted along a little in his rear. She thought him the most extraordinary man: as mad as he was odious. Sane people, if theyвАЩre going to hurryвБ†вАФbut why hurry!вБ†вАФdo it in the shade of field hedgerows, not in the white blaze of county council roads. Well, he could go ahead. In the next field she was going to have it out with him: she didnвАЩt intend to be hot with running: let him be, his hateful, but certainly noticeable eyes, protruding at her like a lobsterвАЩs; but she cool and denunciatory in her pretty blouse. + 

There was a dogcart coming behind them! + 

Suddenly it came into her head: that fool had been lying when he had said that the police meant to let them alone: lying over the breakfast-table.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The dogcart contained the police: after them! She didnвАЩt waste time looking round: she wasnвАЩt a fool like Atalanta in the egg race. She picked up her heels and sprinted. She beat him by a yard and half to the kissing-gate, white in the hedge: panicked; breathing hard. He panted into it, after her: the fool hadnвАЩt the sense to let her through first. They were jammed in together: face to face, panting! An occasion on which sweethearts kiss in Kent: the gate being made in three, the inner flange of the V moving on hinges. It stops cattle getting through: but this great lout of a Yorkshireman didnвАЩt know: trying to push through like a mad bullock! Now they were caught. Three weeks in Wandsworth gaol.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Oh hang.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

The voice of Mrs.¬†WannopвБ†вАФof course it was only mother! Twenty feet on high or so behind the kicking mare, with a good, round face like a peonyвБ†вАФsaid: + 

вАЬAh, you can jam my Val in a gate and hold herвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ but she gave you seven yards in twenty and beat you to the gate. That was her fatherвАЩs ambition!вАЭ She thought of them as children running races. She beamed down, round-faced and simple, on Tietjens from beside the driver, who had a black, slouch hat and the grey beard of St.¬†Peter. + 

вАЬMy dear boy!вАЭ she said, вАЬmy dear boy; itвАЩs such a satisfaction to have you under my roof!вАЭ + 

The black horse reared on end, the patriarch sawing at its mouth. Mrs.¬†Wannop said unconcernedly: вАЬStephen Joel! I havenвАЩt done talking.вАЭ + 

Tietjens was gazing enragedly at the lower part of the horseвАЩs sweat-smeared stomach. + 

вАЬYou soon will have,вАЭ he said, вАЬwith the girth in that state. Your neck will be broken.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, I donвАЩt think so,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Wannop said. вАЬJoel only bought the turnout yesterday.вАЭ + 

Tietjens addressed the driver with some ferocity: + 

вАЬHere; get down, you,вАЭ he said. He held, himself, the head of the horse whose nostrils were wide with emotion: it rubbed its forehead almost immediately against his chest. He said: вАЬYes! yes! There! there!вАЭ Its limbs lost their tautness. The aged driver scrambled down from the high seat, trying to come down at first forward and then backwards. Tietjens fired indignant orders at him: + 

вАЬLead the horse into the shade of that tree. DonвАЩt touch his bit: his mouthвАЩs sore. Where did you get this job lot? Ashford market: thirty pounds: itвАЩs worth more.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But, blast you, donвАЩt you see youвАЩve got a thirteen hands ponyвАЩs harness for a sixteen and a half hands horse. Let the bit out: three holes: itвАЩs cutting the animalвАЩs tongue in half.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ This animalвАЩs a rig. Do you know what a rig is? If you give it corn for a fortnight it will kick you and the cart and the stable to pieces in five minutes one day.вАЭ He led the conveyance, Mrs.¬†Wannop triumphantly complacent and all, into a patch of shade beneath elms. + 

вАЬLoosen that bit, confound you,вАЭ he said to the driver. вАЬAh! youвАЩre afraid.вАЭ + 

He loosened the bit himself, covering his fingers with greasy harness polish which he hated. Then he said: + 

вАЬCan you hold his head or are you afraid of that too? You deserve to have him bite your hands off.вАЭ He addressed Miss Wannop: вАЬCan you?вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬNo! IвАЩm afraid of horses. I can drive any sort of car; but IвАЩm afraid of horses.вАЭ + 

He said: + 

вАЬVery proper!вАЭ He stood back and looked at the horse: it had dropped its head and lifted its near hind foot, resting the toe on the ground: an attitude of relaxation. + 

вАЬHeвАЩll stand now!вАЭ he said. He undid the girth, bending down uncomfortably, perspiring and greasy: the girth-strap parted in his hand. + 

вАЬItвАЩs true,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Wannop said. вАЬIвАЩd have been dead in three minutes if you hadnвАЩt seen that. The cart would have gone over backwardsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens took out a large, complicated, horn-handled knife like a schoolboyвАЩs. He selected a punch and pulled it open. He said to the driver: + 

вАЬHave you got any cobblerвАЩs thread? Any string? Any copper wire? A rabbit wire, now? Come, youвАЩve got a rabbit wire or youвАЩre not a handy man.вАЭ + 

The driver moved his slouch hat circularly in negation. This seemed to be Quality who summons you for poaching if you own to possessing rabbit wires. Tietjens laid the girth along the shaft and punched into it with his punch. + 

вАЬWomanвАЩs work!вАЭ he said to Mrs.¬†Wannop, вАЬbut itвАЩll take you home and last you six months as wellвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But IвАЩll sell this whole lot for you tomorrow.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Wannop sighed: + 

вАЬI suppose itвАЩll fetch a ten pound noteвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She said: вАЬI ought to have gone to market myself.вАЭ + 

вАЬNo!вАЭ Tietjens answered: вАЬIвАЩll get you fifty for it or IвАЩm no Yorkshireman. This fellow hasnвАЩt been swindling you. HeвАЩs got you deuced good value for money, but he doesnвАЩt know whatвАЩs suited for ladies; a white pony and a basket-work chaise is what you want.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, I like a bit of spirit,вАЭ Mrs.¬†Wannop said. + 

вАЬOf course you do,вАЭ Tietjens answered: вАЬbut this turnoutвАЩs too much.вАЭ + 

He sighed a little and took out his surgical needle. + 

вАЬIвАЩm going to hold this band together with this,вАЭ he said. вАЬItвАЩs so pliant it will make two stitches and hold forever.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

But the handy man was beside him, holding out the contents of his pockets: a greasy leather pouch, a ball of beeswax, a knife, a pipe, a bit of cheese and a pale rabbit wire. He had made up his mind that this Quality was benevolent and he made offering of all his possessions. + 

Tietjens said: вАЬAh,вАЭ and then, while he unknotted the wire: + 

вАЬWell! ListenвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ you bought this turnout of a higgler at the back door of the Leg of Mutton Inn.вАЭ + 

вАЬSaracenвАЩs вАЩEd!вАЭ the driver muttered. + 

вАЬYou got it for thirty pounds because the higgler wanted money bad. I know. And dirt cheap.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But a rig isnвАЩt everybodyвАЩs driving. All right for a vet or a horse-coper. Like the cart thatвАЩs too tall!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But you did damn well. Only youвАЩre not what you were, are you, at thirty? And the horse looked to be a devil and the cart so high you couldnвАЩt get out once you were in. And you kept it in the sun for two hours waiting for your mistress.вАЭ + 

вАЬThere werвАЩ a bit oвАЩ lewth вАЩlongside stable wall,вАЭ the driver muttered. + 

вАЬWell! he didnвАЩt like waiting,вАЭ Tietjens said placably. вАЬYou can be thankful your old neckвАЩs not broken. Do this band up, one hole less for the bit IвАЩve taken in.вАЭ + 

He prepared to climb into the driverвАЩs seat, but Mrs.¬†Wannop was there before him, at an improbable altitude on the sloping watch-box with strapped cushions. + 

вАЬOh, no, you donвАЩt,вАЭ she said, вАЬno one drives me and my horse but me or my coachman when IвАЩm about. Not even you, dear boy.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩll come with you then,вАЭ Tietjens said. + 

вАЬOh, no, you donвАЩt,вАЭ she answered. вАЬNo oneвАЩs neckвАЩs to be broken in this conveyance but mine and JoelвАЩs,вАЭ she added: вАЬperhaps tonight if IвАЩm satisfied the horse is fit to drive.вАЭ + 

Miss Wannop suddenly exclaimed: + 

вАЬOh, no, mother.вАЭ But the handy man having climbed in, Mrs.¬†Wannop flirted her whip and started the horse. She pulled up at once and leaned over to Tietjens: + 

вАЬWhat a life for that poor woman,вАЭ she said. вАЬWe must all do all we can for her. She could have her husband put in a lunatic asylum tomorrow. ItвАЩs sheer self-sacrifice that she doesnвАЩt.вАЭ + 

The horse went off at a gentle, regular trot. + 

Tietjens addressed Miss Wannop: + 

вАЬWhat hands your motherвАЩs got,вАЭ he said, вАЬit isnвАЩt often one sees a woman with hands like that on a horseвАЩs mouth.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Did you see how she pulled up?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He was aware that, all this while, from the roadside, the girl had been watching him with shining eyes: intently even: with fascination. + 

вАЬI suppose you think that a mighty fine performance,вАЭ she said. + 

вАЬI didnвАЩt make a very good job of the girth,вАЭ he said. вАЬLetвАЩs get off this road.вАЭ + 

вАЬSetting poor, weak women in their places,вАЭ Miss Wannop continued. вАЬSoothing the horse like a man with a charm. I suppose you soothe women like that too. I pity your wife.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The English country male! And making a devoted vassal at sight of the handy man. The feudal system all complete.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬWell, you know, itвАЩll make him all the better servant to you if he thinks youвАЩve friends in the know. The lower classes are like that. LetвАЩs get off this road.вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬYouвАЩre in a mighty hurry to get behind the hedge. Are the police after us or arenвАЩt they? Perhaps you were lying at breakfast: to calm the hysterial nerves of a weak woman.вАЭ + 

вАЬI wasnвАЩt lying,вАЭ he said, вАЬbut I hate roads when there are field-pathsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬThatвАЩs a phobia, like any womanвАЩs,вАЭ she exclaimed. + 

She almost ran through the kissing-gate and stood awaiting him: + 

вАЬI suppose,вАЭ she said, вАЬif youвАЩve stopped off the police with your high and mighty male ways you think youвАЩve destroyed my romantic young dream. You havenвАЩt. I donвАЩt want the police after me. I believe IвАЩd die if they put me in WandsworthвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩm a coward.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, no, you arenвАЩt,вАЭ he said, but he was following his own train of thought, just as she wasnвАЩt in the least listening to him. вАЬI daresay youвАЩre a heroine all right. Not because you persevere in actions the consequences of which you fear. But I daresay you can touch pitch and not be defiled.вАЭ + 

Being too well brought up to interrupt she waited till he had said all he wanted to say, then she exclaimed: + 

вАЬLetвАЩs settle the preliminaries. ItвАЩs obvious mother means us to see a great deal of you. YouвАЩre going to be a mascot too, like your father. I suppose you think you are: you saved me from the police yesterday, you appear to have saved motherвАЩs neck today. You appear, too, to be going to make twenty pounds profit on a horse deal. You say you will and you seem to be that sort of a personвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Twenty pounds is no end in a family like oursвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Well, then, you appear to be going to be the regular bel ami of the Wannop familyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬI hope not.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, I donвАЩt mean,вАЭ she said, вАЬthat youвАЩre going to rise to fame by making love to all the women of the Wannop family. Besides, thereвАЩs only me. But mother will press you into all sorts of odd jobs: and there will always be a plate for you at the table. DonвАЩt shudder! IвАЩm a regular good cookвБ†вАФcuisine bourgeoise of course. I learned under a real professed cook, though a drunkard. That meant I used to do half the cooking and the family was particular. Eating people are: county councillors, half of them, and the like. So I know what men areвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She stopped and said good-naturedly: вАЬBut do, for goodnessвАЩ sake, get it over. IвАЩm sorry I was rude to you. But it is irritating to have to stand like a stuffed rabbit while a man is acting like a regular Admirable Crichton, and cool and collected, with the English country gentleman air and all.вАЭ + 

Tietjens winced. The young woman had come a little too near the knuckle of his wifeвАЩs frequent denunciations of himself. And she exclaimed: + 

вАЬNo! ThatвАЩs not fair! IвАЩm an ungrateful pig! You didnвАЩt show a bit more side really than a capable workman must whoвАЩs doing his job in the midst of a crowd of incapable duffers. But just get it out, will you? Say once and for all thatвБ†вАФyou know the proper, pompous manner: you are not without sympathy with our aims: but you disapproveвБ†вАФoh, immensely, stronglyвБ†вАФof our methods.вАЭ + 

It struck Tietjens that the young woman was a good deal more interested in the causeвБ†вАФof votes for womenвБ†вАФthan he had given her credit for. He wasnвАЩt much in the mood for talking to young women, but it was with considerably more than the surface of his mind that he answered: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt. I approve entirely of your methods: but your aims are idiotic.вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬYou donвАЩt know, I suppose, that Gertie Wilson, whoвАЩs in bed at our house, is wanted by the police: not only for yesterday, but for putting explosives in a whole series of letter-boxes?вАЭ + 

He said: + 

вАЬI didnвАЩtвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ but it was a perfectly proper thing to do. She hasnвАЩt burned any of my letters or I might be annoyed; but it wouldnвАЩt interfere with my approval.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou donвАЩt think,вАЭ she asked earnestly, вАЬthat weвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ mother and IвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ are likely to get heavy sentences for shielding her. It would be beastly bad luck on mother. Because sheвАЩs an antiвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know about the sentence,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬbut weвАЩd better get her off your premises as soon as we can.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬOh, youвАЩll help?вАЭ + 

He answered: + 

вАЬOf course, your mother canвАЩt be incommoded. SheвАЩs written the only novel thatвАЩs been fit to read since the eighteenth century.вАЭ + 

She stopped and said earnestly: + 

вАЬLook here. DonвАЩt be one of those ignoble triflers who say the vote wonвАЩt do women any good. Women have a rotten time. They do, really. If youвАЩd seen what IвАЩve seen, IвАЩm not talking through my hat.вАЭ Her voice became quite deep: she had tears in her eyes: вАЬPoor women do!вАЭ she said, вАЬlittle insignificant creatures. WeвАЩve got to change the divorce laws. WeвАЩve got to get better conditions. You couldnвАЩt stand it if you knew what I know.вАЭ + 

Her emotion vexed him, for it seemed to establish a sort of fraternal intimacy that he didnвАЩt at the moment want. Women do not show emotion except before their familiars. He said drily: + 

вАЬI daresay I shouldnвАЩt. But I donвАЩt know, so I can!вАЭ + 

She said with deep disappointment: + 

вАЬOh, you are a beast! And I shall never beg your pardon for saying that. I donвАЩt believe you mean what you say, but merely to say it is heartless.вАЭ + 

This was another of the counts of SylviaвАЩs indictment and Tietjens winced again. She explained: + 

вАЬYou donвАЩt know the case of the Pimlico army clothing factory workers or you wouldnвАЩt say the vote would be no use to women.вАЭ + 

вАЬI know the case perfectly well,вАЭ Tietjens said: вАЬIt came under my official notice, and I remember thinking that there never was a more signal instance of the uselessness of the vote to anyone.вАЭ + 

вАЬWe canвАЩt be thinking of the same case,вАЭ she said. + 

вАЬWe are,вАЭ he answered. вАЬThe Pimlico army clothing factory is in the constituency of Westminster; the Undersecretary for War is member for Westminster; his majority at the last election was six hundred. The clothing factory employed seven hundred men at 1s. 6d. an hour, all these men having votes in Westminster. The seven hundred men wrote to the Undersecretary to say that if their screw wasnвАЩt raised to two bob theyвАЩd vote solid against him at the next election.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Miss Wannop said: вАЬWell then!вАЭ + 

вАЬSo,вАЭ Tietjens said: вАЬThe Undersecretary had the seven hundred men at eighteenpence fired and took on seven hundred women at tenpence. What good did the vote do the seven hundred men? What good did a vote ever do anyone?вАЭ + 

Miss Wannop checked at that and Tietjens prevented her exposure of his fallacy by saying quickly: + 

вАЬNow, if the seven hundred women, backed by all the other ill-used, sweated women of the country, had threatened the Undersecretary, burned the pillar-boxes, and cut up all the golf greens round his country-house, theyвАЩd have had their wages raised to half-a-crown next week. ThatвАЩs the only straight method. ItвАЩs the feudal system at work.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, but we couldnвАЩt cut up golf greens,вАЭ Miss Wannop said. вАЬAt least the W.S.P.U. debated it the other day, and decided that anything so unsporting would make us too unpopular. I was for it personally.вАЭ + 

Tietjens groaned: + 

вАЬItвАЩs maddening,вАЭ he said, вАЬto find women, as soon as they get in Council, as muddleheaded and as afraid to face straight issues as men!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou wonвАЩt, by the by,вАЭ the girl interrupted, вАЬbe able to sell our horse tomorrow. YouвАЩve forgotten that it will be Sunday.вАЭ + 

вАЬI shall have to on Monday, then,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬThe point about the feudal systemвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Just after lunchвБ†вАФand it was an admirable lunch of the cold lamb, new potatoes and mint-sauce variety, the mint-sauce made with white wine vinegar and as soft as kisses, the claret perfectly drinkable and the port much more than that, Mrs.¬†Wannop having gone back to the late professorвАЩs wine merchantsвБ†вАФMiss Wannop herself went to answer the telephone.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

The cottage had no doubt been a cheap one, for it was old, roomy and comfortable; but effort had no doubt, too, been lavished on its low rooms. The dining-room had windows on each side and a beam across; the dining silver had been picked up at sales, the tumblers were old cut glass; on each side of the ingle was a grandfatherвАЩs chair. The garden had red brick paths, sunflowers, hollyhocks and scarlet gladioli. There was nothing to it all, but the garden-gate was well hung. + 

To Tietjens all this meant effort. Here was a woman who, a few years ago, was penniless, in the most miserable of circumstances, supporting life with the most exiguous of all implements. What effort hadnвАЩt it meant! and what effort didnвАЩt it mean? There was a boy at EtonвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a senseless, but a gallant effort. + 

Mrs.¬†Wannop sat opposite him in the other grandfatherвАЩs chair; an admirable hostess, an admirable lady. Full of spirit in dashes; but tired. As an old horse is tired that, taking three men to harness it in the stable yard, starts out like a stallion, but soon drops to a jog-trot. The face tired, really; scarlet-cheeked with the good air, but seamed downward. She could sit there at ease, the plump hands covered with a black lace shawl, and descending on each side of her lap, as much at ease as any other Victorian great lady. But at lunch she had let drop that she had written for eight hours every day for the last four yearsвБ†вАФtill that dayвБ†вАФwithout missing a day. Today being Saturday, she had no leader to write: + 

вАЬAnd, my darling boy,вАЭ she had said to him. вАЬIвАЩm giving it to you. IвАЩd give it to no other soul but your fatherвАЩs son. Not even toвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ And she had named the name that she most respected. вАЬAnd thatвАЩs the truth,вАЭ she had added. Nevertheless, even over lunch, she had fallen into abstractions, heavily and deeply, and made fantastic misstatements, mostly about public affairs.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It all meant a tremendous record.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

And there he sat, his coffee and port on a little table beside him; the house belonging to him.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

She said: + 

вАЬMy dearest boyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ youвАЩve so much to do. Do you think you ought really to drive the girls to Plimsoll tonight? TheyвАЩre young and inconsiderate; work comes first.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬIt isnвАЩt the distanceвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYouвАЩll find that it is,вАЭ she answered humorously. вАЬItвАЩs twenty miles beyond Tenterden. If you donвАЩt start till ten when the moon sets, you wonвАЩt be back till five, even if youвАЩve no accidents.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The horse is all right, thoughвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬMrs.¬†Wannop, I ought to tell you that your daughter and I are being talked about. Uglily!вАЭ + 

She turned her head to him; rather stiffly. But she was only coming out of an abstraction. + 

вАЬEh?вАЭ she said, and then: вАЬOh! About the golf-links episode.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It must have looked suspicious. I daresay you made a fuss, too, with the police, to head them off her.вАЭ She remained pondering for a moment, heavily, like an old pope: + 

вАЬOh, youвАЩll live it down,вАЭ she said. + 

вАЬI ought to tell you,вАЭ he persisted, вАЬthat itвАЩs more serious than you think. I fancy I ought not to be here.вАЭ + 

вАЬNot here!вАЭ she exclaimed. вАЬWhy, where else in the world should you be? You donвАЩt get on with your wife; I know. SheвАЩs a regular wrong вАЩun. Who else could look after you as well as Valentine and I?вАЭ + 

In the acuteness of that pang, for, after all, Tietjens cared more for his wifeвАЩs reputation than for any other factor in a complicated world, Tietjens asked rather sharply why Mrs.¬†Wannop had called Sylvia a wrong вАЩun. She said in rather a protesting, sleepy way: + 

вАЬMy dear boy, nothing! IвАЩve guessed that there are differences between you; give me credit for some perception. Then, as youвАЩre perfectly obviously a right вАЩun, she must be a wrong вАЩun. ThatвАЩs all, I assure you.вАЭ + 

In his relief TietjensвАЩ obstinacy revived. He liked this house; he liked this atmosphere; he liked the frugality, the choice of furniture, the way the light fell from window to window; the weariness after hard work; the affection of mother and daughter; the affection, indeed, that they both had for himself, and he was determined, if he could help it, not to damage the reputation of the daughter of the house. + 

Decent men, he held, donвАЩt do such things, and he recounted with some care the heads of the conversation he had had with General Campion in the dressing-room. He seemed to see the cracked washbowls in their scrubbed oak settings. Mrs.¬†WannopвАЩs face seemed to grow greyer, more aquiline; a little resentful! She nodded from time to time; either to denote attention or else in sheer drowsiness: + 

вАЬMy dear boy,вАЭ she said at last, вАЬitвАЩs pretty damnable to have such things said about you. I can see that. But I seem to have lived in a bath of scandal all my life. Every woman who has reached my age has that feeling.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Now it doesnвАЩt seem to matterвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She really nodded nearly off: then she started. вАЬI donвАЩt seeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I really donвАЩt see how I can help you as to your reputation. IвАЩd do it if I could: believe me.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But IвАЩve other things to think of.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve this house to keep going and the children to keep fed and at school. I canвАЩt give all the thought I ought to to other peopleвАЩs troubles.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She started into wakefulness and right out of her chair. + 

вАЬBut what a beast I am!вАЭ she said, with a sudden intonation that was exactly that of her daughter; and, drifting with a Victorian majesty of shawl and long skirt behind TietjensвАЩ high-backed chair, she leaned over it and stroked the hair on his right temple: + 

вАЬMy dear boy,вАЭ she said. вАЬLifeвАЩs a bitter thing. IвАЩm an old novelist and know it. There you are working yourself to death to save the nation with a wilderness of cats and monkeys howling and squalling your personal reputation away.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It was Dizzy himself said these words to me at one of our receptions. вАШHere I am, Mrs.¬†Wannop,вАЩ he said.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ AndвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She drifted for a moment. But she made another effort: вАЬMy dear boy,вАЭ she whispered, bending down her head to get it near his ear: вАЬMy dear boy; it doesnвАЩt matter; it doesnвАЩt really matter. YouвАЩll live it down. The only thing that matters is to do good work. Believe an old woman that has lived very hard; вАШHard lying moneyвАЩ as they call it in the navy. It sounds like cant, but itвАЩs the only real truth.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ YouвАЩll find consolation in that. And youвАЩll live it all down. Or perhaps you wonвАЩt; thatвАЩs for God in His mercy to settle. But it wonвАЩt matter; believe me, as thy day so shall thy strength be.вАЭ She drifted into other thoughts; she was much perturbed over the plot of a new novel and much wanted to get back to the consideration of it. She stood gazing at the photograph, very faded, of her husband in side-whiskers and an immense shirtfront, but she continued to stroke TietjensвАЩ temple with a subliminal tenderness. + 

This kept Tietjens sitting there. He was quite aware that he had tears in his eyes; this was almost too much tenderness to bear, and, at bottom his was a perfectly direct, simple and sentimental soul. He always had bedewed eyes at the theatre, after tender love scenes and so avoided the theatre. He asked himself twice whether he should or shouldnвАЩt make another effort, though it was almost beyond him. He wanted to sit still. + 

The stroking stopped; he scrambled on to his feet: + 

вАЬMrs.¬†Wannop,вАЭ he said, facing her, вАЬitвАЩs perfectly true. I oughtnвАЩt to care what these swine say about me, but I do. IвАЩll reflect about what you say till I get it into my systemвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬYes, yes! My dear,вАЭ and continued to gaze at the photograph: + 

вАЬBut,вАЭ Tietjens said; he took her mittened hand and led her back to her chair: вАЬWhat IвАЩm concerned for at the moment is not my reputation, but your daughter ValentineвАЩs.вАЭ + 

She sank down into the high chair, balloon-like and came to rest. + 

вАЬValвАЩs reputation!вАЭ she said, вАЬOh! you mean theyвАЩll be striking her off their visiting lists. It hadnвАЩt struck me. So they will!вАЭ She remained lost in reflection for a long time. + 

Valentine was in the room, laughing a little. She had been giving the handy man his dinner, and was still amused at his commendations of Tietjens. + 

вАЬYouвАЩve got one admirer,вАЭ she said to Tietjens. вАЬвАКвАШPunched that rotten strap,вАЩ he goes on saying, вАШlike a gret olвАЩ yaffle punchinвАЩ a вАЩollow log!вАЩ HeвАЩs had a pint of beer and said it between each gasp.вАЭ She continued to narrate the quaintnesses of Joel which appealed to her; informed Tietjens that вАЬyaffleвАЭ was Kentish for great green woodpecker; and then said: + 

вАЬYou havenвАЩt got any friends in Germany, have you?вАЭ She was beginning to clear the table. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬYes; my wifeвАЩs in Germany; at a place called Lobscheid.вАЭ + 

She placed a pile of plates on a black japanned tray. + 

вАЬIвАЩm so sorry,вАЭ she said, without an expression of any deep regret. вАЬItвАЩs the ingenious clever stupidities of the telephone. IвАЩve got a telegraph message for you, then. I thought it was the subject for motherвАЩs leader. It always comes through with the initials of the paper which are not unlike Tietjens, and the girl who always sends it is called Hopside. It seemed rather inscrutable, but I took it to have to do with German politics and I thought mother would understand it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ YouвАЩre not both asleep, are you?вАЭ + 

Tietjens opened his eyes; the girl was standing over him, having approached from the table. She was holding out a slip of paper on which she had transcribed the message. She appeared all out of drawing and the letters of the message ran together. The message was: + 

вАЬRighto. But arrange for certain Hullo Central travels with you. Sylvia Hopside Germany.вАЭ + 

Tietjens leaned back for a long time looking at the words; they seemed meaningless. The girl placed the paper on his knee, and went back to the table. He imagined the girl wrestling with these incomprehensibilities on the telephone. + 

вАЬOf course if IвАЩd had any sense,вАЭ the girl said, вАЬI should have known it couldnвАЩt have been motherвАЩs leader note; she never gets one on a Saturday.вАЭ + 

Tietjens heard himself announce clearly, loudly and with between each word a pause: + 

вАЬIt means I go to my wife on Tuesday and take her maid with me.вАЭ + 

вАЬLucky you!вАЭ the girl said, вАЬI wish I was you. IвАЩve never been in the Fatherland of Goethe and Rosa Luxembourg.вАЭ She went off with her great tray load, the table cloth over her forearm. He was dimly aware that she had before then removed the crumbs with a crumb-brush. It was extraordinary with what swiftness she worked, talking all the time. That was what domestic service had done for her; an ordinary young lady would have taken twice the time, and would certainly have dropped half her words if she had tried to talk. Efficiency! He had only just realised that he was going back to Sylvia, and of course to Hell! Certainly it was Hell. If a malignant and skilful devilвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ though the devil of course is stupid and uses toys like fireworks and sulphur; it is probably only God who can, very properly, devise the long ailings of mental oppressionsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ if God then desired (and one couldnвАЩt object but one hoped He would not!) to devise for him, Christopher Tietjens, a cavernous eternity of weary hopelessness.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But He had done it; no doubt as retribution. What for? Who knows what sins of his own are heavily punishable in the eyes of God, for God is just?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Perhaps God, then, after all, visits thus heavily sexual offences. + 

There came back into his mind, burnt in, the image of their breakfast-room, with all the brass, electrical fixings, poachers, toasters, grillers, kettle-heaters, that he detested for their imbecile inefficiency; with gross piles of hothouse flowersвБ†вАФthat he detested for their exotic waxennesses!вБ†вАФwith white enamelled panels that he disliked and framed, weak printsвБ†вАФquite genuine of course, my dear, guaranteed so by SothebyвБ†вАФpinkish women in sham Gainsborough hats, selling mackerel or brooms. A wedding present that he despised. And Mrs.¬†Satterthwaite, in negligee, but with an immense hat; reading the Times with an eternal rustle of leaves because she never could settle down to any one page; and Sylvia walking up and down because she could not sit still, with a piece of toast in her fingers or her hands behind her back. Very tall; fair; as graceful, as full of blood and as cruel as the usual degenerate Derby winner. Inbred for generations for one purpose: to madden men of one type.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Pacing backwards and forwards, exclaiming: вАЬIвАЩm bored! Bored!вАЭ; sometimes even breaking the breakfast platesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And talking! Forever talking; usually, cleverly, with imbecility; with maddening inaccuracy; with wicked penetration, and clamouring to be contradicted; a gentleman has to answer his wifeвАЩs questions.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And in his forehead the continual pressure; the determination to sit put; the d√©cor of the room seeming to burn into his mind. It was there, shadowy before him now. And the pressure upon his forehead.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Mrs.¬†Wannop was talking to him now; he did not know what she said; he never knew afterwards what he had answered. + 

вАЬGod!вАЭ he said within himself, вАЬif itвАЩs sexual sins God punishes, He indeed is just and inscrutable!вАЭвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Because he had had physical contact with this woman before he married her; in a railway carriage; coming down from the Dukeries. An extravagantly beautiful girl! + 

Where was the physical attraction of her gone to now? Irresistible; reclining back as the shires rushed past.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ His mind said that she had lured him on. His intellect put the idea from him. No gentleman thinks such things of his wife. + 

No gentleman thinks.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ By God; she must have been with child by another man.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He had been fighting the conviction down all the last four months.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He knew now that he had been fighting the conviction all the last four months whilst, anaesthetised, he had bathed in figures and wave-theories.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Her last words had been: her very last words: late: all in white she had gone up to her dressing-room, and he had never seen her again; her last words had been about the childвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАЬSupposing,вАЭ she had begunвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He didnвАЩt remember the rest. But he remembered her eyes. And her gesture as she peeled off her long white gloves.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

He was looking at Mrs.¬†WannopвАЩs ingle; he thought it a mistake in taste, really, to leave logs in an ingle during the summer. But then what are you to do with an ingle in summer? In Yorkshire cottages they shut the ingles up with painted doors. But that is stuffy, too! + 

He said to himself: + 

вАЬBy God! IвАЩve had a stroke!вАЭ and he got out of his chair to test his legs.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But he hadnвАЩt had a stroke. It must, then, he thought, be that the pain of his last consideration must be too great for his mind to register, as certain great physical pains go unperceived. Nerves, like weighing machines, canвАЩt register more than a certain amount, then they go out of action. A tramp who had had his leg cut off by a train had told him that he had tried to get up, feeling nothing at all.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The pain comes back thoughвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

He said to Mrs.¬†Wannop, who was still talking: + 

вАЬI beg your pardon. I really missed what you said.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Wannop said: + 

вАЬI was saying that thatвАЩs the best thing I can do for you.вАЭ + 

He said: + 

вАЬIвАЩm really very sorry: it was that that I missed. IвАЩm a little in trouble, you know.вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬI know: I know. The mind wanders; but I wish youвАЩd listen. IвАЩve got to go to work, so have you. I said: after tea you and Valentine will walk into Rye to fetch your luggage.вАЭ + 

Straining his intelligence, for, in his mind, he felt a sudden strong pleasure: sunlight on pyramidal red roof in the distance: themselves descending in a long diagonal, a green hill: God, yes, he wanted open air. Tietjens said: + 

вАЬI see. You take us both under your protection. YouвАЩll bluff it out.вАЭ + 

Mrs.¬†Wannop said rather coolly: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know about you both. ItвАЩs you IвАЩm taking under my protection (itвАЩs your phrase!) As for Valentine: sheвАЩs made her bed; she must lie on it. IвАЩve told you all that already. I canвАЩt go over it again.вАЭ + 

She paused, then made another effort: + 

вАЬItвАЩs disagreeable,вАЭ she said, вАЬto be cut off the Mountby visiting list. They give amusing parties. But IвАЩm too old to care and theyвАЩll miss my conversation more than I do theirs. Of course, I back my daughter against cats and monkeys. Of course, I back Valentine through thick and thin. IвАЩd back her if she lived with a married man or had illegitimate children. But I donвАЩt approve, I donвАЩt approve of the suffragettes: I despise their aims: I detest their methods. I donвАЩt think young girls ought to talk to strange men. Valentine spoke to you and look at the worry it has caused you. I disapprove. IвАЩm a woman: but IвАЩve made my own way; other women could do it if they liked or had the energy. I disapprove! But donвАЩt believe that I will ever go back on any suffragette, individual, in gangs; my Valentine or any other. DonвАЩt believe that I will ever say a word against them thatвАЩs to be repeatedвБ†вАФyou wonвАЩt repeat them. Or that I will ever write a word against them. No, IвАЩm a woman and I stand by my sex!вАЭ + 

She got up energetically: + 

вАЬI must go and write my novel,вАЭ she said. вАЬIвАЩve MondayвАЩs instalment to send off by train tonight. YouвАЩll go into my study: Valentine will give you paper; ink; twelve different kinds of nibs. YouвАЩll find Professor WannopвАЩs books all round the room. YouвАЩll have to put up with Valentine typing in the alcove. IвАЩve got two serials running, one typed, the other in manuscript.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬBut you!вАЭ + 

вАЬI,вАЭ she exclaimed, вАЬI shall write in my bedroom on my knee. IвАЩm a woman and can. YouвАЩre a man and have to have a padded chair and sanctuary.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You feel fit to work? Then: youвАЩve got till five, Valentine will get tea then. At half-past five youвАЩll set off to Rye. YouвАЩll be back with your luggage and your friend and your friendвАЩs luggage at seven.вАЭ + 

She silenced him imperiously with: + 

вАЬDonвАЩt be foolish. Your friend will certainly prefer this house and ValentineвАЩs cooking to the pub and the pubвАЩs cooking. And heвАЩll save on it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs no extra trouble. I suppose your friend wonвАЩt inform against that wretched little suffragette girl upstairs.вАЭ She paused and said: вАЬYouвАЩre sure you can do your work in the time and drive Valentine and her to that placeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Why itвАЩs necessary is that the girl darenвАЩt travel by train and weвАЩve relations there whoвАЩve never been connected with the suffragettes. The girl can live hid there for a bit.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But sooner than you shouldnвАЩt finish your work IвАЩd drive them myselfвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She silenced Tietjens again: this time sharply: + 

вАЬI tell you itвАЩs no extra trouble. Valentine and I always make our own beds. We donвАЩt like servants among our intimate things. We can get three times as much help in the neighbourhood as we want. WeвАЩre liked here. The extra work you give will be met by extra help. We could have servants if we wanted. But Valentine and I like to be alone in the house together at night. WeвАЩre very fond of each other.вАЭ + 

She walked to the door and then drifted back to say: + 

вАЬYou know I canвАЩt get out of my head that unfortunate woman and her husband. We must all do what we can for them.вАЭ Then she started and exclaimed: вАЬBut, good heavens, IвАЩm keeping you from your workвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The studyвАЩs in there, through that door.вАЭ + 

She hurried through the other doorway and no doubt along a passage, calling out: + 

вАЬValentine! Valentine! Go to Christopher in the study. At onceвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ atвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Her voice died away. + 

VII + 

Jumping down from the high step of the dogcart the girl completely disappeared into the silver: she had on an otter-skin toque, dark, that should have been visible. But she was gone more completely than if she had dropped into deep water, into snowвБ†вАФor through tissue paper. More suddenly, at least! In darkness or in deep water a moving paleness would have been visible for a second: snow or a paper hoop would have left an opening. Here there had been nothing. + 

The constation interested him. He had been watching her intently and with concern for fear she should miss the hidden lower step, in which case she would certainly bark her shins. But she had jumped clear of the cart: with unreasonable pluckiness, in spite of his: вАЬLook out how you get down.вАЭ He wouldnвАЩt have done it himself: he couldnвАЩt have faced jumping down into that white solidityвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

He would have asked: вАЬAre you all right?вАЭ but to express more concern than the вАЬlook out,вАЭ which he had expended already, would have detracted from his stolidity. He was Yorkshire and stolid: she south country and soft: emotional: given to such ejaculations as вАЬI hope youвАЩre not hurt,вАЭ when the Yorkshireman only grunts. But soft because she was south country. She was as good as a manвБ†вАФa south country man. She was ready to acknowledge the superior woodenness of the north.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ That was their convention: so he did not call down: вАЬI hope youвАЩre all right,вАЭ though he had desired to. + 

Her voice came, muffled, as if from the back of the top of his head: the ventriloquial effect was startling: + 

вАЬMake a noise from time to time. ItвАЩs ghostly down here and the lampвАЩs no good at all. ItвАЩs almost out.вАЭ + 

He returned to his constations of the concealing effect of water vapour. He enjoyed the thought of the grotesque appearance he must present in that imbecile landscape. On his right an immense, improbably brilliant horn of a moon, sending a trail as if down the sea, straight to his neck: beside the moon a grotesquely huge star: in an extravagant position above them the Plough, the only constellation that he knew; for, though a mathematician, he despised astronomy. It was not theoretical enough for the pure mathematician and not sufficiently practical for daily life. He had of course calculated the movements of abstruse heavenly bodies: but only from given figures: he had never looked for the stars of his calculations.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Above his head and all over the sky were other stars: large and weeping with light, or as the dawn increased, so paling that, at times, you saw them; then missed them. Then the eye picked them up again. + 

Opposite the moon was a smirch or two of cloud; pink below, dark purple above; on the more pallid, lower blue of the limpid sky. + 

But the absurd thing was this mist!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It appeared to spread from his neck, absolutely level, absolutely silver, to infinity on each side of him. At great distances on his right black tree-shapes, in groupsвБ†вАФthere were four of themвБ†вАФwere exactly like coral islands on a silver sea. He couldnвАЩt escape the idiotic comparison: there wasnвАЩt any other. + 

Yet it didnвАЩt actually spread from his neck: when he now held his hands, nipple-high, like pallid fish they held black reins which ran downwards into nothingness. If he jerked the rein, the horse threw its head up. Two pricked ears were visible in greyness: the horse being sixteen two and a bit over, the mist might be ten foot high. ThereaboutsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He wished the girl would come back and jump out of the cart again. Being ready for it he would watch her disappearance more scientifically. He couldnвАЩt of course ask her to do it again: that was irritating. The phenomenon would have provedвБ†вАФor it might of course disproveвБ†вАФhis idea of smoke screens. The Chinese of the Ming dynasty were said to have approached and overwhelmed their enemies under clouds ofвБ†вАФof course, not acridвБ†вАФvapour. He had read that the Patagonians, hidden by smoke, were accustomed to approach so near to birds or beasts as to be able to take them by hand. The Greeks under Paleologus theвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Miss WannopвАЩs voice saidвБ†вАФfrom beneath the bottom board of the cart: + 

вАЬI wish youвАЩd make some noise. ItвАЩs lonely down here, besides being possibly dangerous. There might be dicks on each side of the road.вАЭ + 

If they were on the marsh there certainly would be dykesвБ†вАФwhy did they call ditches вАЬdykes,вАЭ and why did she pronounce it вАЬdicksвАЭ?вБ†вАФon each side of the road. He could think of nothing to say that wouldnвАЩt express concern and he couldnвАЩt do that by the rules of the game. He tried to whistle вАЬJohn Peel!вАЭ But he was no hand at whistling. He sang: + 

вАЬDвАЩye ken, John Peel at the break of dayвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ and felt like a fool. But he kept on at it, the only tune that he knew. It was the Yorkshire Light Infantry quickstep: the regiment of his brothers in India. He wished he had been in the army: but his father hadnвАЩt approved of having more than two younger sons in the army. He wondered if he would ever run with John PeelвАЩs hounds again: he had once or twice. Or with any of the trencher-fed foot packs of the Cleveland district, of which there had been still several when he had been a boy. He had been used to think of himself as being like John Peel with his coat so greyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Up through the heather, over WhartonвАЩs place; the pack running wild; the heather dripping; the mist rolling upвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ another kind of mist than this south country silver sheet. Silly stuff! Magical! That was the word. A silly word.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ South countryвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ In the north the old grey mists rolled together, revealing black hillsides! + 

He didnвАЩt suppose heвАЩd have the wind now: this rotten bureaucratic life!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ If he had been in the army like the two brothers, Ernest and James, next above himвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But no doubt he would not have liked the army. Discipline!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He supposed he would have put up with the discipline: a gentleman had to. Because noblesse oblige: not for fear of consequencesвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But army officers seemed to him pathetic. They spluttered and roared: to make men jump smartly: at the end of apoplectic efforts the men jumped smartly. But there was the end of it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Actually, this mist was not silver, or was, perhaps, no longer silver: if you looked at it with the eye of the artistвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ With the exact eye! It was smirched with bars of purple; of red; of orange: delicate reflections: dark blue shadows from the upper sky where it formed drifts like snow.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The exact eye: exact observation: it was a manвАЩs work. The only work for a man. Why, then, were artists soft: effeminate; not men at all: whilst the army officer, who had the inexact mind of the schoolteacher, was a manly man? Quite a manly man: until he became an old woman! + 

And the bureaucrat then? Growing fat and soft like himself, or dry and stringy like Macmaster or old Ingleby? They did menвАЩs work: exact observation: return No.¬†17642 with figures exact. Yet they grew hysterical: they ran about corridors or frantically rang table bells, asking with high voices of querulous eunuchs why form ninety thousand and two wasnвАЩt ready. Nevertheless men like the bureaucratic life: his own brother, Mark, head of the family: heir to Groby.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Fifteen years older: a quiet stick: wooden: brown; always in a bowler-hat, as often as not with his racing-glasses hung around him. Attending his first-class office when he liked: too good a man for any administration to lose by putting on the screw.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But heir to Groby: what would that stick make of the place?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Let it, no doubt, and go on pottering from the Albany to race meetingsвБ†вАФwhere he never bettedвБ†вАФto Whitehall, where he was said to be indispensable.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Why indispensable? Why in heavenвАЩs name? That stick who had never hunted, never shot: couldnвАЩt tell coulter from plough-handle and lived in his bowler-hat!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A вАЬsoundвАЭ man: the archetype of all sound men. Never in his life had anyone shaken his head at Mark and said: + 

вАЬYouвАЩre brilliant!вАЭ Brilliant! That stick! No, he was indispensable! + 

вАЬUpon my soul!вАЭ Tietjens said to himself, вАЬthat girl down there is the only intelligent living soul IвАЩve met for years.вАЭвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A little pronounced in manner sometimes; faulty in reasoning naturally, but quite intelligent, with a touch of wrong accent now and then. But if she was wanted anywhere, there sheвАЩd be! Of good stock, of course: on both sides!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But, positively, she and Sylvia were the only two human beings he had met for years whom he could respect: the one for sheer efficiency in killing: the other for having the constructive desire and knowing how to set about it. Kill or cure! The two functions of man. If you wanted something killed youвАЩd go to Sylvia Tietjens in the sure faith that she would kill it: emotion: hope: ideal: kill it quick and sure. If you wanted something kept alive youвАЩd go to Valentine: sheвАЩd find something to do for itвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The two types of mind: remorseless enemy: sure screen: daggerвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ sheath! + 

Perhaps the future of the world, then, was to women? Why not? He hadnвАЩt in years met a man that he hadnвАЩt to talk down toвБ†вАФas you talk down to a child: as he had talked down to General Campion or to Mr.¬†WaterhouseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ as he always talked down to Macmaster. All good fellows in their way.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

But why was he born to be a sort of lonely buffalo: outside the herd? Not artist: not soldier: not bureaucrat: not certainly indispensable anywhere: apparently not even sound in the eyes of these dim-minded specialistsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ An exact observer.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Hardly even that for the last six and a half hours: + 

вАЬDie Sommer Nacht hat mirs angethan: + 

Das war ein schwiegsame ReitenвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

he said aloud. + 

How could you translate that: you couldnвАЩt translate it: no one could translate Heine: + 

вАЬIt was the summer night came over me: + 

That was silent ridingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

A voice cut into his warm, drowsy thought: + 

вАЬOh, you do exist. But youвАЩve spoken too late. IвАЩve run into the horse.вАЭ He must have been speaking aloud. He had felt the horse quivering at the end of the reins. The horse, too, was used to her by now. It had hardly stirredвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He wondered when he had left off singing вАЬJohn Peel.вАЭвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He said: + 

вАЬCome along, then: have you found anything?вАЭ + 

The answer came: + 

вАЬSomethingвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But you canвАЩt talk in this stuffвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩll justвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The voice died away as if a door had shut. He waited: consciously waiting: as an occupation! Contritely and to make a noise he rattled the whip-stock in its bucket. The horse started and he had to check in quickly: a damn fool he was. Of course a horse would start if you rattled a whip-stock. He called out: + 

вАЬAre you all right?вАЭ The cart might have knocked her down. He had, however, broken the convention. Her voice came from a great distance: + 

вАЬIвАЩm all right. Trying the other sideвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

His last thought came back to him. He had broken their convention: he had exhibited concern: like any other man.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He said to himself: + 

вАЬBy God! Why not take a holiday: why not break all conventions?вАЭ + 

They erected themselves intangibly and irrefragably. He had not known this young woman twenty-four hours: not to speak to: and already the convention existed between them that he must play stiff and cold, she warm and clinging.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Yet she was obviously as cool a hand as himself: cooler, no doubt, for at bottom he was certainly a sentimentalist. + 

A convention of the most imbecile type.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Then break all conventions: with the young woman: with himself above all. For forty-eight hoursвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ almost exactly forty-eight hours till he started for Dover.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

вАЬAnd I must to the greenwood go, + 

Alone: a banished man!вАЭ + 

Border ballad! Written not seven miles from Groby! + 

By the descending moon: it being then just after cockcrow of midsummer nightвБ†вАФwhat sentimentality!вБ†вАФit must be half-past four on Sunday. He had worked out that to catch the morning Ostend boat at Dover he must leave the WannopsвАЩ at 5:15 on Tuesday morning, in a motor for the junction.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ What incredible cross-country train connections! Five hours for not forty miles. + 

He had then forty-eight and three-quarter hours! Let them be a holiday! A holiday from himself above all: a holiday from his standards: from his convention with himself. From clear observation: from exact thought: from knocking over all the skittles of the exactitudes of others: from the suppression of emotions.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ From all the weariness that made him intolerable to himself.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He felt his limbs lengthen, as if they too had relaxed. + 

Well, already he had had six and a half hours of it. They had started at 10 and, like any other man, he had enjoyed the drive, though it had been difficult to keep the beastly cart balanced, the girl had had to sit behind with her arm round the other girl who screamed at every oak tree.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

But he hadвБ†вАФif he put himself to the questionвБ†вАФmooned along under the absurd moon that had accompanied them down the heaven: to the scent of hay: to the sound of nightingales, hoarse by now, of courseвБ†вАФin June he changes his tune; of corncrakes, of bats, of a heron twice, overhead. They had passed the blue-black shadows of corn stacks, of heavy, rounded oaks, of hop oasts that are half church tower, half finger-post. And the road silver grey, and the night warm.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It was midsummer night that had done that to him.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Hat mirвАЩs angethan. + 

Das war ein schwiegsame Reiten.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Not absolutely silent of course: but silentish! Coming back from the parsonвАЩs, where they had dropped the little London sewer rat, they had talked very little.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Not unpleasant people the parsonвАЩs: an uncle of the girlвАЩs: three girl cousins, not unpleasant, like the girl but without the individualityвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A remarkably good bite of beef: a truly meritorious Stilton and a drop of whisky that proved the parson to be a man. All in candlelight. A motherly mother of the family to take the rat up some stairsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a great deal of laughter of girlsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ then a restart an hour later than had been scheduled.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Well, it hadnвАЩt mattered: they had the whole of eternity before them: the good horseвБ†вАФreally it was a good horse!вБ†вАФputting its shoulders into the work.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

They had talked a little at first; about the safeness of the London girl from the police now; about the brickishness of the parson in taking her in. She certainly would never have reached Charing Cross by train.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

There had fallen long periods of silences. A bat had whirled very near their off-lamp. + 

вАЬWhat a large bat!вАЭ she had said. вАЬNoctilux major.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He said: + 

вАЬWhere do you get your absurd Latin nomenclature from? IsnвАЩt it phal≈УnaвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She had answered: + 

вАЬFrom WhiteвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The Natural History of Selborne is the only natural history I ever read.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬHeвАЩs the last English writer that could write,вАЭ said Tietjens. + 

вАЬHe calls the downs вАШthose majestic and amusing mountains,вАЩвАКвАЭ she said. вАЬWhere do you get your dreadful Latin pronunciation from? PhalвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ iвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ iвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ na! To rhyme with Dinah!вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs вАШsublime and amusing mountains,вАЩ not вАШmajestic and amusing,вАЩвАКвАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬI got my Latin pronunciation, like all public schoolboys of today, from the German.вАЭ + 

She answered: + 

вАЬYou would! Father used to say it made him sick.вАЭ + 

вАЬCaesar equals Kaiser,вАЭ Tietjens said.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

вАЬBother your Germans,вАЭ she said, вАЬtheyвАЩre no ethnologists; theyвАЩre rotten at philology!вАЭ She added: вАЬFather used to say so,вАЭ to take away from an appearance of pedantry. + 

A silence then! She had right over her head a rug that her aunt had lent her; a silhouette beside him, with a cocky nose turned up straight out of the descending black mass. But for the square toque she would have had the silhouette of a Manchester cotton-hand: the toque gave it a different line; like the fillet of Diana. It was piquant and agreeable to ride beside a quite silent lady in the darkness of the thick Weald that let next to no moonlight through. The horseвАЩs hoofs went clock, clock: a good horse. The near lamp illuminated the russet figure of a man with a sack on his back, pressed into the hedge, a blinking lurcher beside him. + 

вАЬKeeper between the blankets!вАЭ Tietjens said to himself: вАЬAll these south country keepers sleep all night.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And then you give them a five quid tip for the weekend shoot.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He determined that, as to that too he would put his foot down. No more weekends with Sylvia in the mansions of the Chosen People.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

The girl said suddenly; they had run into a clearing of the deep underwoods: + 

вАЬIвАЩm not stuffy with you over that Latin, though you were unnecessarily rude. And IвАЩm not sleepy. IвАЩm loving it all.вАЭ + 

He hesitated for a minute. It was a silly-girl thing to say. She didnвАЩt usually say silly-girl things. He ought to snub her for her own sake.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

He had said: + 

вАЬIвАЩm rather loving it too!вАЭ She was looking at him; her nose had disappeared from the silhouette. He hadnвАЩt been able to help it; the moon had been just above her head; unknown stars all round her; the night was warm. Besides, a really manly man may condescend at times! He rather owes it to himself.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

She said: + 

вАЬThat was nice of you! You might have hinted that the rotten drive was taking you away from your so important work.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, I can think as I drive,вАЭ he said. She said: + 

вАЬOh!вАЭ and then: вАЬThe reason why IвАЩm unconcerned over your rudeness about my Latin is that I know IвАЩm a much better Latinist than you. You canвАЩt quote a few lines of Ovid without sprinkling howlers in.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs vastum, not longumвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАШTerra tribus scopulis vastum procurritвАЩвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs alto, not coeloвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАШUvidus ex alto desilientis.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЩ How could Ovid have written ex coelo? The c after the x sets your teeth on edge.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬExcogitabo!вАЭ + 

вАЬThatвАЩs purely canine!вАЭ she said with contempt. + 

вАЬBesides,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬlongum is much better than vastum. I hate cant adjectives like вАШvast.вАЩвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬItвАЩs like your modesty to correct Ovid,вАЭ she exclaimed. вАЬYet you say Ovid and Catullus were the only two Roman poets to be poets. ThatвАЩs because they were sentimental and used adjectives like vastum.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ WhatвАЩs вАШSad tears mixed with kissesвАЩ but the sheerest sentimentality!вАЭ + 

вАЬIt ought, you know,вАЭ Tietjens said with soft dangerousness, вАЬto be вАШKisses mingled with sad tearsвАЩвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ вАШTristibus et lacrimis oscula mixta dabisвАЩ.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩm hanged if I ever could,вАЭ she exclaimed explosively. вАЬA man like you could die in a ditch and IвАЩd never come near. YouвАЩre desiccated even for a man who has learned his Latin from the Germans.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, well, IвАЩm a mathematician,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬClassics is not my line!вАЭ + 

вАЬIt isnвАЩt,вАЭ she answered tartly. + 

A long time afterwards from her black figure came the words: + 

вАЬYou used вАШmingledвАЩ instead of вАШmixedвАЩ to translate mixta. I shouldnвАЩt think you took English at Cambridge, either! Though theyвАЩre as rotten at that as at everything else, father used to say.вАЭ + 

вАЬYour father was Balliol, of course,вАЭ Tietjens said with the snuffy contempt of a scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge. But having lived most of her life amongst Balliol people she took this as a compliment and an olive branch. + 

Some time afterwards Tietjens, observing that her silhouette was still between him and the moon, remarked: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt know if you know that for some minutes weвАЩve been running nearly due west. We ought to be going southeast by a bit south. I suppose you do know this road.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬEvery inch of it,вАЭ she said, вАЬIвАЩve been on it over and over again on my motor-bicycle with mother in the sidecar. The next cross road is called GrandfatherвАЩs Wantways. WeвАЩve got eleven miles and a quarter still to do. The road turns back here because of the old Sussex iron pits; it goes in and out amongst them; hundreds of them. You know the exports of the town of Rye in the eighteenth century were hops, cannon, kettles and chimney backs. The railings round St.¬†PaulвАЩs are made of Sussex iron.вАЭ + 

вАЬI knew that, of course,вАЭ Tietjens said: вАЬI come of an iron county myself.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Why didnвАЩt you let me run the girl over in the sidecar, it would have been quicker?вАЭ + 

вАЬBecause,вАЭ she said, вАЬthree weeks ago I smashed up the sidecar on the milestone at HogвАЩs Corner: doing forty.вАЭ + 

вАЬIt must have been a pretty tidy smash!вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬYour mother wasnвАЩt aboard?вАЭ + 

вАЬNo,вАЭ the girl said, вАЬsuffragette literature. The sidecar was full. It was a pretty tidy smash. HadnвАЩt you observed I still limp a little?вАЭвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

A few minutes later she said: + 

вАЬI havenвАЩt the least notion where we really are. I clean forgot to notice the road. And I donвАЩt care.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ HereвАЩs a signpost though; pull into it.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The lamps would not, however, shine on the arms of the post; they were burning dim and showing low. A good deal of fog was in the air. Tietjens gave the reins to the girl and got down. He took out the near light and, going back a yard or two to the signpost, examined its bewildering ghostlinesses.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

The girl gave a little squeak that went to his backbone; the hoofs clattered unusually; the cart went on. Tietjens went after it; it was astonishing; it had completely disappeared. Then he ran into it: ghostly, reddish and befogged. It must have got much thicker suddenly. The fog swirled all round the near lamp as he replaced it in its socket. + 

вАЬDid you do that on purpose?вАЭ he asked the girl. вАЬOr canвАЩt you hold a horse?вАЭ + 

вАЬI canвАЩt drive a horse,вАЭ the girl said; вАЬIвАЩm afraid of them. I canвАЩt drive a motorbike either. I made that up because I knew youвАЩd say youвАЩd rather have taken Gertie over in the sidecar than driven with me.вАЭ + 

вАЬThen do you mind,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬtelling me if you know this road at all?вАЭ + 

вАЬNot a bit!вАЭ she answered cheerfully. вАЬI never drove it in my life. I looked it up on the map before we started because IвАЩm sick to death of the road we went by. ThereвАЩs a one-horse bus from Rye to Tenterden, and IвАЩve walked from Tenterden to my uncleвАЩs over and over again.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬWe shall probably be out all night then,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬDo you mind? The horse may be tired.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

She said: + 

вАЬOh, the poor horse!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I meant us to be out all night.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But the poor horse.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ What a brute I was not to think of it.вАЭ + 

вАЬWeвАЩre thirteen miles from a place called Brede; eleven and a quarter from a place whose name I couldnвАЩt read; six and three-quarters from somewhere called something like Uddlemere.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬThis is the road to Uddlemere.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, that was GrandfatherвАЩs Wantways all right,вАЭ she declared. вАЬI know it well. ItвАЩs called вАШGrandfatherвАЩsвАЩ because an old gentleman used to sit there called GranвАЩfer Finn. Every Tenterden market day he used to sell fleed cakes from a basket to the carts that went by. Tenterden market was abolished in 1845вБ†вАФthe effect of the repeal of the Corn Laws, you know. As a Tory you ought to be interested in that.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said patiently: He could sympathise with her mood; she had now a heavy weight off her chest; and, if long acquaintance with his wife had not made him able to put up with feminine vagaries, nothing ever would. + 

вАЬWould you mind,вАЭ he said then, вАЬtelling meвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬIf,вАЭ she interrupted, вАЬthat was really GranвАЩferвАЩs Wantways: midland English. вАШVentвАЩ equals four crossroads: high French carrefour.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Or, perhaps, that isnвАЩt the right word. But itвАЩs the way your mind works.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou have, of course, often walked from your uncleвАЩs to GranвАЩferвАЩs Wantways,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬwith your cousins, taking brandy to the invalid in the old tollgate house. ThatвАЩs how you know the story of Grandfer. You said you had never driven it; but you have walked it. ThatвАЩs the way your mind works, isnвАЩt it?вАЭ + 

She said: вАЬOh!вАЭ + 

вАЬThen,вАЭ Tietjens went on, вАЬwould you mind telling meвБ†вАФfor the sake of the poor horseвБ†вАФwhether Uddlemere is or isnвАЩt on our road home. I take it you donвАЩt know just this stretch of road, but you know whether it is the right road.вАЭ + 

вАЬThe touch of pathos,вАЭ the girl said, вАЬis a wrong note. ItвАЩs you whoвАЩre in mental trouble about the road. The horse isnвАЩt.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens let the cart go on another fifty yards; then he said: + 

вАЬIt is the right road. The Uddlemere turning was the right one. You wouldnвАЩt let the horse go another five steps if it wasnвАЩt. YouвАЩre as soppy about horses asвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ as I am.вАЭ + 

вАЬThereвАЩs at least that bond of sympathy between us,вАЭ she said drily. вАЬGranвАЩferвАЩs Wantways is six and three-quarter miles from Udimore; Udimore is exactly five from us; total, eleven and three-quarters; twelve and a quarter if you add half a mile for Udimore itself. The name is Udimore, not Uddlemere. Local place-name enthusiasts derive this from вАШOвАЩer the mere.вАЩ Absurd! Legend as follows: Church builders desiring to put church with relic of St.¬†Rumwold in wrong place, voice wailed: вАШOвАЩer the mere.вАЩ Obviously absurd!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Putrid! вАШOвАЩer theвАЩ by GrimmвАЩs law impossible as вАШUdiвАЩ; вАШmereвАЩ not a middle Low German word at all.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬWhy,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬare you giving me all this information?вАЭ + 

вАЬBecause,вАЭ the girl said, вАЬitвАЩs the way your mind works.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It picks up useless facts as silver after youвАЩve polished it picks up sulphur vapor; and tarnishes! It arranges the useless facts in obsolescent patterns and makes Toryism out of them.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩve never met a Cambridge Tory man before. I thought they were all in museums and you work them up again out of bones. ThatвАЩs what father used to say; he was an Oxford Disraelian Conservative Imperialist.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬI know of course,вАЭ Tietjens said. + 

вАЬOf course you know,вАЭ the girl said. вАЬYou know everything.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And youвАЩve worked everything into absurd principles. You think father was unsound because he tried to apply tendencies to life. You want to be a Nenglish country gentleman and spin principles out of the newspapers and the gossip of horse-fairs. And let the country go to hell, youвАЩll never stir a finger except to say I told you so.вАЭ + 

She touched him suddenly on the arm: + 

вАЬDonвАЩt mind me!вАЭ she said. вАЬItвАЩs reaction. IвАЩm so happy. IвАЩm so happy.вАЭ + 

He said: + 

вАЬThatвАЩs all right! ThatвАЩs all right!вАЭ But for a minute or two it wasnвАЩt really. All feminine claws, he said to himself, are sheathed in velvet; but they can hurt a good deal if they touch you on the sore places of the defects of your qualitiesвБ†вАФeven merely with the velvet. He added: вАЬYour mother works you very hard.вАЭ + 

She exclaimed: + 

вАЬHow you understand. YouвАЩre amazing: for a man who tries to be a sea-anemone!вАЭ She said: вАЬYes, this is the first holiday IвАЩve had for four solid months; six hours a day typing; four hours a day work for the movement; three, housework and gardening; three, mother reading out her dayвАЩs work for slips of the pen.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ And on the top of it the raid and the anxiety.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Dreadful anxiety, you know. Suppose mother had gone to prison.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Oh, IвАЩd have gone mad.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Weekdays and Sundays.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She stopped: вАЬIвАЩm apologising, really,вАЭ she went on. вАЬOf course I ought not to have talked to you like that. You, a great Panjandrum; saving the country with your statistics and all.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ It did make you a rather awful figure, you knowвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and the relief to find youвАЩreвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ oh, a man like oneself with feet of clay.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩd dreaded this drive.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩd have dreaded it dreadfully if I hadnвАЩt been in such a dread about Gertie and the police. And, if I hadnвАЩt let off steam I should have had to jump out and run beside the cart.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I could stillвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou couldnвАЩt,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬYou couldnвАЩt see the cart.вАЭ + 

They had just run into a bank of solid fog that seemed to encounter them with a soft, ubiquitous blow. It was blinding; it was deadening to sounds; it was in a sense mournful; but it was happy, too, in its romantic unusualness. They couldnвАЩt see the gleam of the lamps; they could hardly hear the step of the horse; the horse had fallen at once to a walk. They agreed that neither of them could be responsible for losing the way; in the circumstances that was impossible. Fortunately the horse would take them somewhere; it had belonged to a local higgler: a man that used the roads buying poultry for resale.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ They agreed that they had no responsibilities, and after that went on for unmeasured hours in silence; the mist growing, but very, very gradually, more luminous.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Once or twice, at a rise in the road, they saw again the stars and the moon, but mistily. On the fourth occasion they had emerged into the silver lake; like mermen rising to the surface of a tropical sea.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

Tietjens had said: + 

вАЬYouвАЩd better get down and take the lamp. See if you can find a milestone; IвАЩd get down myself, but you might not be able to hold the horse.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ She had plunged inвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

And he had sat, feeling he didnвАЩt know why, like a Guy Fawkes; up in the light, thinking by no means disagreeable thoughtsвБ†вАФintent, like Miss Wannop herself, on a complete holiday of forty-eight hours; till Tuesday morning! He had to look forward to a long and luxurious day of figures; a rest after dinner; half a night more of figures; a Monday devoted to a horse-deal in the market-town where he happened to know the horse-dealer. The horse-dealer, indeed, was known to every hunting man in England! A luxurious, long argument in the atmosphere of stable-hartshorn and slow wranglings couched in ostlerвАЩs epigrams. You couldnвАЩt have a better day; the beer in the pub probably good, too. Or if not that, the claret.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The claret in south country inns was often quite good; there was no sale for it so it got well kept.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

On Tuesday it would close in again, beginning with the meeting of his wifeвАЩs maid at Dover.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

He was to have, above all, a holiday from himself and to take it like other men; free of his conventions, his strait waist-coatings.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

The girl said: + 

вАЬIвАЩm coming up now! IвАЩve found out something.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He watched intently the place where she must appear; it would give him pointers about the impenetrability of mist to the eye. + 

Her otter skin cap had beads of dew: beads of dew were on her hair beneath: she scrambled up, a little awkwardly: her eyes sparkled with fun: panting a little: her cheeks bright. Her hair was darkened by the wetness of the mist, but she appeared golden in the sudden moonlight. + 

Before she was quite up, Tietjens almost kissed her. Almost. An all but irresistible impulse! He exclaimed: + 

вАЬSteady, the Buffs!вАЭ in his surprise. + 

She said: + 

вАЬWell, you might as well have given me a hand.вАЭ вАЬI found,вАЭ she went on, вАЬa stone that had I.R.D.C. on it, and there the lamp went out. WeвАЩre not on the marsh because weвАЩre between quick hedges. ThatвАЩs all IвАЩve found.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But IвАЩve worked out what makes me so tart with you.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He couldnвАЩt believe she could be so absolutely calm: the after-wash of that impulse had been so strong in him that it was as if he had tried to catch her to him and had been foiled by her.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ She ought to be indignant, amused, even pleased.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ She ought to show some emotion.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

She said: + 

вАЬIt was your silencing me with that absurd non-sequitur about the Pimlico clothing factory. It was an insult to my intelligence.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou recognised that it was a fallacy!вАЭ Tietjens said. He was looking hard at her. He didnвАЩt know what had happened to him. She took a long look at him, cool, but with immense eyes. It was as if for a moment destiny, which usually let him creep past somehow, had looked at him. вАЬCanвАЩt,вАЭ he argued with destiny, вАЬa man want to kiss a schoolgirl in a scuffle.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ His own voice, a caricature of his own voice, seemed to come to him: вАЬGentlemen donвАЩtвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ He exclaimed: + 

вАЬDonвАЩt gentlemen?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ and then stopped because he realised that he had spoken aloud. + 

She said: + 

вАЬOh, gentlemen do use fallacies to glide over tight places in arguments. And they browbeat schoolgirls with them. ItвАЩs that, that underneath, has been exasperating me with you. You regarded me at that dateвБ†вАФthree-quarters of a day agoвБ†вАФas a schoolgirl.вАЭ + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬI donвАЩt now!вАЭ He added: вАЬHeaven knows I donвАЩt now!вАЭ + 

She said: вАЬNo; you donвАЩt now!вАЭ + 

He said: + 

вАЬIt didnвАЩt need your putting up all that blue stocking erudition to convince me.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬBlue stocking!вАЭ she exclaimed contemptuously. вАЬThereвАЩs nothing of the blue stocking about me. I know Latin because father spoke it with us. It was your pompous blue socks I was pulling.вАЭ + 

Suddenly she began to laugh. Tietjens was feeling sick, physically sick. She went on laughing. He stuttered: + 

вАЬWhat is it?вАЭ + 

вАЬThe sun!вАЭ she said, pointing. Above the silver horizon was the sun; not a red sun: shining, burnished. + 

вАЬI donвАЩt seeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Tietjens said. + 

вАЬWhat there is to laugh at?вАЭ she asked. вАЬItвАЩs the day!вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The longest dayвАЩs begunвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ and tomorrowвАЩs as long.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The summer solstice, you know.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ After tomorrow the days shorten towards winter. But tomorrowвАЩs as long.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ IвАЩm so gladвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬThat weвАЩve got through the night?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ Tietjens asked. + 

She looked at him for a long time. вАЬYouвАЩre not so dreadfully ugly, really,вАЭ she said. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬWhatвАЩs that church?вАЭ + 

Rising out of the mist on a fantastically green knoll, a quarter of a mile away, was an unnoticeable place of worship: an oak shingle tower roof that shone grey like lead: an impossibly bright weathercock, brighter than the sun. Dark elms all around it, holding wetnesses of mist. + 

вАЬIcklesham!вАЭ she cried softly. вАЬOh, weвАЩre nearly home. Just above MountbyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ThatвАЩs the Mountby driveвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Trees existed, black and hoary with the dripping mist. Trees in the hedgerow and the avenue that led to Mountby: it made a right-angle just before coming into the road and the road went away at right-angles across the gate. + 

вАЬYouвАЩll have to pull to the left before you reach the avenue,вАЭ the girl said. вАЬOr as like as not the horse will walk right up to the house. The higgler who had him used to buy Lady ClaudineвАЩs eggs.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Tietjens exclaimed barbarously: + 

вАЬDamn Mountby. I wish weвАЩd never come near it,вАЭ and he whipped the horse into a sudden trot. The hoofs sounded suddenly loud. She placed her hand on his gloved driving hand. Had it been his flesh she wouldnвАЩt have done it. + 

She said: + 

вАЬMy dear, it couldnвАЩt have lasted foreverвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But youвАЩre a good man. And very clever.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You will get through.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

Not ten yards ahead Tietjens saw a tea-tray, the underneath of a black-lacquered tea-tray, gliding towards them: mathematically straight, just rising from the mist. He shouted: mad: the blood in his head. His shout was drowned by the scream of the horse: he had swung it to the left. The cart turned up: the horse emerged from the mist: head and shoulders: pawing. A stone seahorse from the fountain of Versailles! Exactly that! Hanging in air for an eternity: the girl looking at it, leaning slightly forward. + 

The horse didnвАЩt come over backwards: he had loosened the reins. It wasnвАЩt there any more. The damndest thing that could happen! He had known it would happen. He said: + 

вАЬWeвАЩre all right now!вАЭ There was a crash and scraping: like twenty tea-trays: a prolonged sound. They must be scraping along the mudguard of the invisible car. He had the pressure of the horseвАЩs mouth: the horse was away: going hell for leather. He increased the pressure. The girl said: + 

вАЬI know IвАЩm all right with you.вАЭ + 

They were suddenly in bright sunlight: cart: horse: commonplace hedgerows. They were going uphill: a steep brae. He wasnвАЩt certain she hadnвАЩt said: вАЬDear!вАЭ or вАЬMy dear!вАЭ Was it possible after so shortвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАК? But it had been a long night. He was, no doubt, saving her life too. He increased his pressure on the horseвАЩs mouth gently: up to all his twelve stone: all his strength. The hill told too. Steep, white road between shaven grass banks! + 

Stop; damn you! Poor beastвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ The girl fell out of the cart. No! jumped clear! Out to the animalвАЩs head. It threw its head up. Nearly off her feet: she was holding the bit.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ She couldnвАЩt! Tender mouthвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ afraid of horses.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ He said: + 

вАЬHorse cut!вАЭ Her face like a little white blancmange! + 

вАЬCome quick,вАЭ she said. + 

вАЬI must hold a minute,вАЭ he said, вАЬmight go off if I let go to get down. Badly cut?вАЭ + 

вАЬBlood running down solid! Like an apron,вАЭ she said. + 

He was at last at her side. It was true. But not so much like an apron. More like a red, varnished stocking. He said: + 

вАЬYouвАЩve a white petticoat on. Get over the hedge; jump it, and take it offвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬTear it into strips?вАЭ she asked. вАЬYes!вАЭ + 

He called to her; she was suspended halfway up the bank. + 

вАЬTear one half off first. The rest into strips.вАЭ + 

She said: вАЬAll right!вАЭ She didnвАЩt go over the quickset as neatly as he had expected. No take off. But she was over.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

The horse, trembling, was looking down, its nostrils distended, at the blood pooling from its near foot. The cut was just on the shoulder. He put his left arm right over the horseвАЩs eyes. The horse stood it, almost with a sigh of relief.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A wonderful magnetism with horses. Perhaps with women too? God knew. He was almost certain she had said вАЬDear.вАЭ + 

She said: вАЬHere.вАЭ He caught a round ball of whitish stuff. He undid it. Thank God: what sense. A long, strong, white band.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ What the devil was the hissing.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ A small, closed car with crumpled mudguards: noiseless nearly: gleaming blackвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ God curse it: it passed them: stopped ten yards downвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ the horse rearing back: mad! Clean madвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ something like a scarlet and white cockatoo, fluttering out of the small car doorвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a general. In full tog. White feathers! Ninety medals! Scarlet coat! Black trousers with red stripe. Spurs too, by God! + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬGod damn you, you bloody swine. Go away!вАЭ + 

The apparition, past the horseвАЩs blinkers, said: + 

вАЬI can, at least, hold the horse for you. I went past to get you out of ClaudineвАЩs sight.вАЭ + 

вАЬDamn good-natured for you,вАЭ Tietjens said as rudely as he could. вАЬYouвАЩll have to pay for the horse.вАЭ + 

The General exclaimed: + 

вАЬDamn it all! Why should I? You were driving your beastly camel right into my drive.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou never sounded your horn,вАЭ Tietjens said. + 

вАЬI was on private ground,вАЭ the General shouted. вАЬBesides I did.вАЭ An enraged, scarlet scarecrow, very thin, he was holding the horseвАЩs bridle. Tietjens was extending the half petticoat, with a measuring eye, before the horseвАЩs chest. The General said: + 

вАЬLook here! IвАЩve got to take the escort for the Royal party at St.¬†Peter-in-Manor, Dover. TheyвАЩre laying the BuffвАЩs colours on the altar or something.вАЭ + 

вАЬYou never sounded your horn,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬWhy didnвАЩt you bring your chauffeur? HeвАЩs a capable man.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ You talk very big about the widow and child. But when it comes to robbing them of fifty quid by slaughtering their horseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The General said: + 

вАЬWhat the devil were you doing coming into our drive at five in the morning?вАЭ + 

Tietjens, who had applied the half petticoat to the horseвАЩs chest, exclaimed: + 

вАЬPick up that thing and give it me.вАЭ A thin roll of linen was at his feet: it had rolled down from the hedge. + 

вАЬCan I leave the horse?вАЭ the General asked. + 

вАЬOf course you can,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬIf I canвАЩt quiet a horse better than you can run a carвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He bound the new linen strips over the petticoat: the horse dropped its head, smelling his hand. The General, behind Tietjens, stood back on his heels, grasping his gold-mounted sword. Tietjens went on twisting and twisting the bandage. + 

вАЬLook here,вАЭ the General suddenly bent forward to whisper into TietjensвАЩ ears, вАЬwhat am I to tell Claudine? I believe she saw the girl.вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, tell her we came to ask what time you cast off your beastly otter hounds,вАЭ Tietjens said; вАЬthatвАЩs a matutinal job.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The GeneralвАЩs voice had a really pathetic intonation: + 

вАЬOn a Sunday!вАЭ he exclaimed. Then in a tone of relief he added: вАЬI shall tell her you were going to early communion in DucheminвАЩs church at Pett.вАЭ + 

вАЬIf you want to add blasphemy to horse-slaughtering as a profession, do,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬBut youвАЩll have to pay for the horse.вАЭ + 

вАЬIвАЩm damned if I will,вАЭ the General shouted. вАЬI tell you you were driving into my drive.вАЭ + 

вАЬThen I shall,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬand you know the construction youвАЩll put on that.вАЭ + 

He straightened his back to look at the horse. + 

вАЬGo away,вАЭ he said, вАЬsay what you like. Do what you like! But as you go through Rye send up the horse-ambulance from the vetвАЩs. DonвАЩt forget that. IвАЩm going to save this horse.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou know, Chris,вАЭ the General said, вАЬyouвАЩre the most wonderful hand with a horseвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ There isnвАЩt another man in EnglandвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬI know it,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬGo away. And send up that ambulance.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ThereвАЩs your sister getting out of your car.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

The General began: + 

вАЬIвАЩve an awful lot to get explainedвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ But, at a thin scream of: вАЬGeneral! General!вАЭ he pressed on his sword hilt to keep it from between his long, black, scarlet-striped legs, and running to the car pushed back into its door a befeathered, black bolster. He waved his hands to Tietjens: + 

вАЬIвАЩll send the ambulance,вАЭ he called. + 

The horse, its upper leg swathed with crisscrosses of white through which a purple stain was slowly penetrating, stood motionless, its head hanging down, mule-like, under the blinding sun. To ease it Tietjens began to undo the trace. The girl hopped over the hedge and, scrambling down, began to help him. + 

вАЬWell. My reputationвАЩs gone,вАЭ she said cheerfully. вАЬI know what Lady Claudine is.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Why did you try to quarrel with the General?вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬOh, youвАЩd better,вАЭ Tietjens said wretchedly, вАЬhave a lawsuit with him. ItвАЩll account forвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ for your not going to MountbyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

вАЬYou think of everything,вАЭ she said. + 

They wheeled the cart backwards off the motionless horse. Tietjens moved it two yards forwardвБ†вАФto get it out of sight of its own blood. Then they sat down side by side on the slope of the bank. + 

вАЬTell me about Groby,вАЭ the girl said at last. + 

Tietjens began to tell her about his home.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ There was, in front of it, an avenue that turned into the road at right angles. Just like the one at Mountby. + 

вАЬMy great-great-grandfather made it,вАЭ Tietjens said. вАЬHe liked privacy and didnвАЩt want the house visible by vulgar people on the roadвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ just like the fellow who planned Mountby, no doubt.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But itвАЩs beastly dangerous with motors. We shall have to alter itвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ just at the bottom of a dip. We canвАЩt have horses hurt.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ YouвАЩll seeвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ It came suddenly into his head that he wasnвАЩt perhaps the father of the child who was actually the heir to that beloved place over which generation after generation had brooded. Ever since Dutch William! A damn Nonconformist swine! + 

On the bank his knees were almost level with his chin. He felt himself slipping down. + 

вАЬIf I ever take you thereвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ he began. + 

вАЬOh, but you never will,вАЭ she said. + 

The child wasnвАЩt his. The heir to Groby! All his brothers were childlessвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ There was a deep well in the stable yard. He had meant to teach the child how, if you dropped a pebble in, you waited to count sixty-three. And there came up a whispering roar.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But not his child! Perhaps he hadnвАЩt even the power to beget children. His married brothers hadnвАЩt.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Clumsy sobs shook him. It was the dreadful injury to the horse which had finished him. He felt as if the responsibility were his. The poor beast had trusted him and he had smashed it up. Miss Wannop had her arm over his shoulder. + 

вАЬMy dear!вАЭ she said, вАЬyou wonвАЩt ever take me to GrobyвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ItвАЩs perhapsвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ ohвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ short acquaintance; but I feel youвАЩre the splendidestвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He thought: вАЬIt is rather short acquaintance.вАЭ + 

He felt a great deal of pain over which there presided the tall, eel-skin, blonde figure of his wife.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ + 

The girl said: + 

вАЬThereвАЩs a fly coming!вАЭ and removed her arm. + 

A fly drew up before them with a blear-eyed driver. He said General Campion had kicked him out of bed, from beside his old woman. He wanted a pound to take them to Mrs.¬†WannopвАЩs, waked out of his beauty sleep and all. The knackerвАЩs cart was following. + 

вАЬYouвАЩll take Miss Wannop home at once,вАЭ Tietjens said, вАЬsheвАЩs got her motherвАЩs breakfast to see to.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ I shanвАЩt leave the horse till the knackerвАЩs van comes.вАЭ + 

The fly-driver touched his age-green hat with his whip. + 

вАЬAye,вАЭ he said thickly, putting a sovereign into his waistcoat pocket. вАЬAlways the gentlemanвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ a merciful man is merciful also to his beast.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ But I wouldnвАЩt leave my little wooden вАЩut nor miss my breakfast, for no beast.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Some do and someвБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ do not.вАЭ + 

He drove off with the girl in the interior of his antique conveyance. + 

Tietjens remained on the slope of the bank, in the strong sunlight, beside the drooping horse. It had done nearly forty miles and lost, at last, a lot of blood. + 

Tietjens said: + 

вАЬI suppose I could get the governor to pay fifty quid for it. They want the money.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶вАЭ + 

He said: + 

вАЬBut it wouldnвАЩt be playing the game!вАЭ + 

A long time afterwards he said: + 

вАЬDamn all principles!вАЭ And then: + 

вАЬBut one has to keep on going.вБ†вАКвБ†вА¶ Principles are like a skeleton map of a countryвБ†вАФyou know whether youвАЩre going east or north.вАЭ + 

The knackerвАЩs cart lumbered round the corner. + 