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. + 