hershoulders
,
with
evident
satisfaction
,
although
she
said
nothing
.
He
had
seen
that
the
fire
burnt
well
;
jam-pots
were
on
the
table
,
tin
covers
shone
in
the
fender
,
and
the
shabby
comfort
of
the
room
was
extreme
.
He
was
dressed
in
his
old
crimson
dressing-gown
,
which
was
faded
irregularly
,
and
had
bright
new
patches
on
it
,
like
the
paler
grass
which
one
finds
on
lifting
a
stone
.
He
made
the
tea
,
and
Katharine
drew
off
her
gloves
,
and
crossed
her
legs
with
a
gesture
that
was
rather
masculine
in
its
ease
.
Nor
did
they
talk
much
until
they
were
smoking
cigarettes
over
the
fire
,
having
placed
their
teacups
upon
the
floor
between
them
.
They
had
not
met
since
they
had
exchanged
letters
about
their
relationship
.
Katharine’s
answer
to
his
protestation
had
been
short
and
sensible
.
Half
a
sheet
of
notepaper
contained
the
whole
of
it
,
for
she
merely
had
to
say
that
she
was
not
in
love
with
him
,
and
so
could
not
marry
him
,
but
their
friendship
would
continue
,
she
hoped
,
unchanged
.
She
had
added
a
postscript
in
which
she
stated
,
“
I
like
your
sonnet
very
much
.
”
So
far
as
William
was
concerned
,
this
appearance
of
ease
was
assumed
.
Three
times
that
afternoon
he
had
dressed
himself
in
a
tail-coat
,
and
three
times
he
had
discarded
it
for
an
old
dressing-gown
;
three
times
he
had
placed
his
pearl
tie-pin
in
position
,
and
three
times
he
had
removed
it
again
,
the
little
looking-glass
in
his
room
being
the
witness
of
these
changes
of
mind
.
The
question
was
,
which
would
Katharine
prefer
on
this
particular
afternoon
in
December
?
He
read
her
note
once
more
,
and
the
postscript
about
the
sonnet
settled
the
matter
.
Evidently
she
admired
most
the
poet
in
him
;
and
as
this
,
on
the
whole
,
agreed
with
his
own
opinion
,
he
decided
to
err
,
if
anything
,
on
the
side
of
shabbiness
.
His
demeanor
was
also
regulated
with
premeditation
;
he
spoke
little
,
and
only
on
impersonal
matters
;
he
wished
her
to
realize
that
in
visiting
him
for
the
first
time
alone
she
was
doing
nothing
remarkable
,
although
,
in
fact
,
that
was
a
point
about
which
he
was
not
at
all
sure
.
Certainly
Katharine
seemed
quite
unmoved
by
any
disturbing
thoughts
;
and
if
he
had
been
completely
master
of
himself
,
he
might
,
indeed
,
have
complained
that
she
was
a
trifle
absent-minded
.
The
ease
,
the
familiarity
of
the
situation
alone
with
Rodney
,
among
teacups
and
candles
,
had
more
effect
upon
her
than
was
apparent
.
She
asked
to
look
at
his
books
,
and
then
at
his
pictures
.
It
was
while
she
held
photograph
from
the
Greek
in
her
hands
that
she
exclaimed
,
impulsively
,
if
incongruously
:
“
My
oysters
!
I
had
a
basket
,
”
she
explained
,
“
and
I’ve
left
it
somewhere
.
Uncle
Dudley
dines
with
us
to-night
.
What
in
the
world
have
I
done
with
them
?
”
She
rose
and
began
to
wander
about
the
room
.
William
rose
also
,
and
stood
in
front
of
the
fire
,
muttering
,
“
Oysters
,
oysters
—
your
basket
of
oysters
!
”
but
though
he
looked
vaguely
here
and
there
,
as
if
the
oysters
might
be
on
the
top
of
the
bookshelf
,
his
eyes
returned
always
to
Katharine
.
She
drew
the
curtain
and
looked
out
among
the
scanty
leaves
of
the
plane-trees
.
“
I
had
them
,
”
she
calculated
,
“
in
the
Strand
;
I
sat
on
a
seat
.
Well
,
never
mind
,
”
she
concluded
,
turning
back
into
the
room
abruptly
,
“
I
dare
say
some
old
creature
is
enjoying
them
by
this
time
.
”
“
I
should
have
thought
that
you
never
forgot
anything
,
”
William
remarked
,
as
they
settled
down
again
.
“
That’s
part
of
the
myth
about
me
,
I
know
,
”
Katharine
replied
.
“
And
I
wonder
,
”
William
proceeded
,
with
some
caution
,
“
what
the
truth
about
you
is
?
But
I
know
this
sort
of
thing
doesn’t
interest
you
,
”
he
added
hastily
,
with
a
touch
of
peevishness
.
“
No
;
it
doesn’t
interest
me
very
much
,
”
she
replied
candidly
.
“
What
shall
we
talk
about
then
?
”
he
asked
.
She
looked
rather
whimsically
round
the
walls
of
the
room
.
“
However
we
start
,
we
end
by
talking
about
the
same
thing
—
about
poetry
,
I
mean
.
I
wonder
if
you
realize
,
William
,
that
I’ve
never
read
even
Shakespeare
?
It’s
rather
wonderful
how
I’ve
kept
it
up
all
these
years
.
”
“
You’ve
kept
it
up
for
ten
years
very
beautifully
,
as
far
as
I’m
concerned
,
”
he
said
.
“
Ten
years
?
So
long
as
that
?
”
“
And
I
don’t
think
it’s
always
bored
you
,
”
he
added
.
She
looked
into
the
fire
silently
.
She
could
not
deny
that
the
surface
of
her
feeling
was
absolutely
unruffled
by
anything
in
William’s
character
;
on
the
contrary
,
she
felt
certain
that
she
could
deal
with
whatever
turned
up
.
He
gave
her
peace
,
in
which
she
could
think
of
things
that
were
far
removed
from
what
they
talked
about
.
Even
now
,
when
he
sat
within
a
yard
of
her
,
how
easily
her
mind
ranged
hither
and
thither
!
Suddenly
a
picture
presented
itself
before
her
,
without
any
effort
on
her
part
as
pictures
will
,
of
herself
in
these
very
rooms
;
she
had
come
in
from
a
lecture
,
and
she
held
a
pile
of
books
in
her
hand
,
scientific
books
,
and
books
about
mathematics
and
astronomy
which
she
had
mastered
.
She
put
them
down
on
the
table
over
there
.
It
was
a
picture
plucked
from
her
life
two
or
three
years
hence
,
when
she
was
married
to
William
;
but
here
she
checked
herself
abruptly
.
She
could
not
entirely
forget
William’s
presence
,
because
,
in
spite
of
his
efforts
to
control
himself
,
his
nervousness
was
apparent
.
On
such
occasions
his
eyes
protruded
more
than
ever
,
and
his
face
had
more
than
ever
the
appearance
of
being
covered
with
a
thin
crackling
skin
,
through
which
every
flush
of
his
volatile
blood
showed
itself
instantly
.
By
this
time
he
had
shaped
so
many
sentences
and
rejected
them
,
felt
so
many
impulses
and
subdued
them
,
that
he
was
a
uniform
scarlet
.
“
You
may
say
you
don’t
read
books
,
”
he
remarked
,
“
but
,
all
the
same
,
you
know
about
them
.
Besides
,
who
wants
you
to
be
learned
?
Leave
that
to
the
poor
devils
who’ve
got
nothing
better
to
do
.
You
—
you
—
ahem
!
—
”
“
Well
,
then
,
why
don’t
you
read
me
something
before
I
go
?
”
said
Katharine
,
looking
at
her
watch
.
“
Katharine
,
you’ve
only
just
come
!
Let
me
see
now
,
what
have
I
got
to
show
you
?
”
He
rose
,
and
stirred
about
the
papers
on
his
table
,
as
if
in
doubt
;
he
then
picked
up
a
manuscript
,
and
after
spreading
it
smoothly
upon
his
knee
,
he
looked
up
at
Katharine
suspiciously
.
He
caught
her
smiling
.
“
I
believe
you
only
ask
me
to
read
out
of
kindness
,
”
he
burst
out
.
“
Let’s
find
something
else
to
talk
about
.
Who
have
you
been
seeing
?
”
“
I
don’t
generally
ask
things
out
of
kindness
,
”
Katharine
observed
;
“
however
,
if
you
don’t
want
to
read
,
you
needn’t
.
”
William
gave
a
queer
snort
of
exasperation
,
and
opened
his
manuscript
once
more
,
though
he
kept
his
eyes
upon
her
face
as
he
did
so
.
No
face
could
have
been
graver
or
more
judicial
.
“
One
can
trust
you
,
certainly
,
to
say
unpleasant
things
,
”
he
said
,
smoothing
out
the
page
,
clearing
his
throat
,
and
reading
half
a
stanza
to
himself
.
“
Ahem
!
The
Princess
is
lost
in
the
wood
,
and
she
hears
the
sound
of
a
horn
.
(
This
would
all
be
very
pretty
on
the
stage
,
but
I
can’t
get
the
effect
here
.
)
Anyhow
,
Sylvano
enters
,
accompanied
by
the
rest
of
the
gentlemen
of
Gratian’s
court
.
I
begin
where
he
soliloquizes
.
”
He
jerked
his
head
and
began
to
read
.
Although
Katharine
had
just
disclaimed
any
knowledge
of
literature
,
she
listened
attentively
.
At
least
,
she
listened
to
the
first
twenty-five
lines
attentively
,
and
then
she
frowned
.
Her
attention
was
only
aroused
again
when
Rodney
raised
his
finger
—
a
sign
,
she
knew
,
that
the
meter
was
about
to
change
.
His
theory
was
that
every
mood
has
its
meter
.
His
mastery
of
meters
was
very
great
;
and
,
if
the
beauty
of
a
drama
depended
upon
the
variety
of
measures
in
which
the
personages
speak
,
Rodney’s
plays
must
have
challenged
the
works
of
Shakespeare
.
Katharine’s
ignorance
of
Shakespeare
did
not
prevent
her
from
feeling
fairly
certain
that
plays
should
not
produce
a
sense
of
chill
stupor
in
the
audience
,
such
as
overcame
her
as
the
lines
flowed
on
,
sometimes
long
and
sometimes
short
,
but
always
delivered
with
the
same
lilt
of
voice
,
which
seemed
to
nail
each
line
firmly
on
to
the
same
spot
in
the
hearer’s
brain
.
Still
,
she
reflected
,
these
sorts
of
skill
are
almost
exclusively
masculine
;
women
neither
practice
them
nor
know
how
to
value
them
;
and
one’s
husband’s
proficiency
in
this
direction
might
legitimately
increase
one’s
respect
for
him
,
since
mystification
is
no
bad
basis
for
respect
.
No
one
could
doubt
that
William
was
a
scholar
.
The
reading
ended
with
the
finish
of
the
Act
;
Katharine
had
prepared
a
little
speech
.
“
That
seems
to
me
extremely
well
written
,
William
;
although
,
of
course
,
I
don’t
know
enough
to
criticize
in
detail
.
”
“
But
it’s
the
skill
that
strikes
you
—
not
the
emotion
?
”
“
In
a
fragment
like
that
,
of
course
,
the
skill
strikes
one
most
.
”
“
But
perhaps
—
have
you
time
to
listen
to
one
more
short
piece
?
the
scene
between
the
lovers
?
There’s
some
real
feeling
in
that
,
I
think
.
Denham
agrees
that
it’s
the
best
thing
I’ve
done
.
”
“
You’ve
read
it
to
Ralph
Denham
?
”
Katharine
inquired
,
with
surprise
.
“
He’s
a
better
judge
than
I
am
.
What
did
he
say
?
”
“
My
dear
Katharine
,
”
Rodney
exclaimed
,
“
I
don’t
ask
you
for
criticism
,
as
I
should
ask
a
scholar
.
I
dare
say
there
are
only
five
men
in
England
whose
opinion
of
my
work
matters
a
straw
to
me
.
But
I
trust
you
where
feeling
is
concerned
.
I
had
you
in
my
mind
often
when
I
was
writing
those
scenes
.
I
kept
asking
myself
,
‘Now
is
this
the
sort
of
thing
Katharine
would
like
?
’
I
always
think
of
you
when
I’m
writing
,
Katharine
,
even
when
it’s
the
sort
of
thing
you
wouldn’t
know
about
.
And
I’d
rather
—
yes
,
I
really
believe
I’d
rather
—
you
thought
well
of
my
writing
than
any
one
in
the
world
.
”
This
was
so
genuine
a
tribute
to
his
trust
in
her
that
Katharine
was
touched
.
“
You
think
too
much
of
me
altogether
,
William
,
”
she
said
,
forgetting
that
she
had
not
meant
to
speak
in
this
way
.
“
No
,
Katharine
,
I
don’t
,
”
he
replied
,
replacing
his
manuscript
in
the
drawer
.
“
It
does
me
good
to
think
of
you
.
”
So
quiet
an
answer
,
followed
as
it
was
by
no
expression
of
love
,
but
merely
by
the
statement
that
if
she
must
go
he
would
take
her
to
the
Strand
,
and
would
,
if
she
could
wait
a
moment
,
change
his
dressing-gown
for
a
coat
,
moved
her
to
the
warmest
feeling
of
affection
for
him
that
she
had
yet
experienced
.
While
he
changed
in
the
next
room
,
she
stood
by
the
bookcase
,
taking
down
books
and
opening
them
,
but
reading
nothing
on
their
pages
.
She
felt
certain
that
she
would
marry
Rodney
.
How
could
one
avoid
it
?
How
could
one
find
fault
with
it
?
Here
she
sighed
,
and
,
putting
the
thought
of
marriage
away
,
fell
into
a
dream
state
,
in
which
she
became
another
person
,
and
the
whole
world
seemed
changed
.
Being
a
frequent
visitor
to
that
world
,
she
could
find
her
way
there
unhesitatingly
.
If
she
had
tried
to
analyze
her
impressions
,
she
would
have
said
that
there
dwelt
the
realities
of
the
appearances
which
figure
in
our
world
;
so
direct
,
powerful
,
and
unimpeded
were
her
sensations
there
,
compared
with
those
called
forth
in
actual
life
.
There
dwelt
the
things
one
might
have
felt
,
had
there
been
cause
;
the
perfect
happiness
of
which
here
we
taste
the
fragment
;
the
beauty
seen
here
in
flying
glimpses
only
.
No
doubt
much
of
the
furniture
of
this
world
was
drawn
directly
from
the
past
,
and
even
from
the
England
of
the
Elizabethan
age
.
However
the
embellishment
of
this
imaginary
world
might
change
,
two
qualities
were
constant
in
it
.
It
was
a
place
where
feelings
were
liberated
from
the
constraint
which
the
real
world
puts
upon
them
;
and
the
process
of
awakenment
was
always
marked
by
resignation
and
a
kind
of
stoical
acceptance
of
facts
.
She
met
no
acquaintance
there
,
as
Denham
did
,
miraculously
transfigured
;
she
played
no
heroic
part
.
But
there
certainly
she
loved
some
magnanimous
hero
,
and
as
they
swept
together
among
the
leaf-hung
trees
of
an
unknown
world
,
they
shared
the
feelings
which
came
fresh
and
fast
as
the
waves
on
the
shore
.
But
the
sands
of
her
liberation
were
running
fast
;
even
through
the
forest
branches
came
sounds
of
Rodney
moving
things
on
his
dressing-table
;
and
Katharine
woke
herself
from
this
excursion
by
shutting
the
cover
of
the
book
she
was
holding
,
and
replacing
it
in
the
bookshelf
.
“
William
,
”
she
said
,
speaking
rather
faintly
at
first
,
like
one
sending
a
voice
from
sleep
to
reach
the
living
.
“
William
,
”
she
repeated
firmly
,
“
if
you
still
want
me
to
marry
you
,
I
will
.
”
Perhaps
it
was
that
no
man
could
expect
to
have
the
most
momentous
question
of
his
life
settled
in
a
voice
so
level
,
so
toneless
,
so
devoid
of
joy
or
energy
.
At
any
rate
William
made
no
answer
.
She
waited
stoically
.
A
moment
later
he
stepped
briskly
from
his
dressing-room
,
and
observed
that
if
she
wanted
to
buy
more
oysters
he
thought
he
knew
where
they
could
find
a
fishmonger’s
shop
still
open
.
She
breathed
deeply
a
sigh
of
relief
.
Extract
from
a
letter
sent
a
few
days
later
by
Mrs.
Hilbery
to
her
sister-in-law
,
Mrs.
Milvain
:
“
...
How
stupid
of
me
to
forget
the
name
in
my
telegram
.
Such
a
nice
,
rich
,
English
name
,
too
,
and
,
in
addition
,
he
has
all
the
graces
of
intellect
;
he
has
read
literally
everything
.
I
tell
Katharine
,
I
shall
always
put
him
on
my
right
side
at
dinner
,
so
as
to
have
him
by
me
when
people
begin
talking
about
characters
in
Shakespeare
.
They
won’t
be
rich
,
but
they’ll
be
very
,
very
happy
.
I
was
sitting
in
my
room
late
one
night
,
feeling
that
nothing
nice
would
ever
happen
to
me
again
,
when
I
heard
Katharine
outside
in
the
passage
,
and
I
thought
to
myself
,
‘Shall
I
call
her
in
?
’
and
then
I
thought
(
in
that
hopeless
,
dreary
way
one
does
think
,
with
the
fire
going
out
and
one’s
birthday
just
over
)
,
‘Why
should
I
lay
my
troubles
on
her
?
’
But
my
little
self-control
had
its
reward
,
for
next
moment
she
tapped
at
the
door
and
came
in
,
and
sat
on
the
rug
,
and
though
we
neither
of
us
said
anything
,
I
felt
so
happy
all
of
a
second
that
I
couldn’t
help
crying
,
‘Oh
,
Katharine
,
when
you
come
to
my
age
,
how
I
hope
you’ll
have
a
daughter
,
too
!
’
You
know
how
silent
Katharine
is
.
She
was
so
silent
,
for
such
a
long
time
,
that
in
my
foolish
,
nervous
state
I
dreaded
something
,
I
don’t
quite
know
what
.
And
then
she
told
me
how
,
after
all
,
she
had
made
up
her
mind
.
She
had
written
.
She
expected
him
to-morrow
.
At
first
I
wasn’t
glad
at
all
.
I
didn’t
want
her
to
marry
any
one
;
but
when
she
said
,
‘It
will
make
no
difference
.
I
shall
always
care
for
you
and
father
most
,
’
then
I
saw
how
selfish
I
was
,
and
I
told
her
she
must
give
him
everything
,
everything
,
everything
!
I
told
her
I
should
be
thankful
to
come
second
.
But
why
,
when
everything’s
turned
out
just
as
one
always
hoped
it
would
turn
out
,
why
then
can
one
do
nothing
but
cry
,
nothing
but
feel
a
desolate
old
woman
whose
life’s
been
a
failure
,
and
now
is
nearly
over
,
and
age
is
so
cruel
?
But
Katharine
said
to
me
,
‘I
am
happy
.
I’m
very
happy.’
And
then
I
thought
,
though
it
all
seemed
so
desperately
dismal
at
the
time
,
Katharine
had
said
she
was
happy
,
and
I
should
have
a
son
,
and
it
would
all
turn
out
so
much
more
wonderfully
than
I
could
possibly
imagine
,
for
though
the
sermons
don’t
say
so
,
I
do
believe
the
world
is
meant
for
us
to
be
happy
in
.
She
told
me
that
they
would
live
quite
near
us
,
and
see
us
every
day
;
and
she
would
go
on
with
the
Life
,
and
we
should
finish
it
as
we
had
meant
to
.
And
,
after
all
,
it
would
be
far
more
horrid
if
she
didn’t
marry
—
or
suppose
she
married
some
one
we
couldn’t
endure
?
Suppose
she
had
fallen
in
love
with
some
one
who
was
married
already
?
“
And
though
one
never
thinks
any
one
good
enough
for
the
people
one’s
fond
of
,
he
has
the
kindest
,
truest
instincts
,
I’m
sure
,
and
though
he
seems
nervous
and
his
manner
is
not
commanding
,
I
only
think
these
things
because
it’s
Katharine
.
And
now
I’ve
written
this
,
it
comes
over
me
that
,
of
course
,
all
the
time
,
Katharine
has
what
he
hasn’t
.
She
does
command
,
she
isn’t
nervous
;
it
comes
naturally
to
her
to
rule
and
control
.
It’s
time
that
she
should
give
all
this
to
some
one
who
will
need
her
when
we
aren’t
there
,
save
in
our
spirits
,
for
whatever
people
say
,
I’m
sure
I
shall
come
back
to
this
wonderful
world
where
one’s
been
so
happy
and
so
miserable
,
where
,
even
now
,
I
seem
to
see
myself
stretching
out
my
hands
for
another
present
from
the
great
Fairy
Tree
whose
boughs
are
still
hung
with
enchanting
toys
,
though
they
are
rarer
now
,
perhaps
,
and
between
the
branches
one
sees
no
longer
the
blue
sky
,
but
the
stars
and
the
tops
of
the
mountains
.
“
One
doesn’t
know
any
more
,
does
one
?
One
hasn’t
any
advice
to
give
one’s
children
.
One
can
only
hope
that
they
will
have
the
same
vision
and
the
same
power
to
believe
,
without
which
life
would
be
so
meaningless
.
That
is
what
I
ask
for
Katharine
and
her
husband
.
”
CHAPTER
XII
“
Is
Mr.
Hilbery
at
home
,
or
Mrs.
Hilbery
?
”
Denham
asked
,
of
the
parlor-maid
in
Chelsea
,
a
week
later
.
“
No
,
sir
.
But
Miss
Hilbery
is
at
home
,
”
the
girl
answered
.
Ralph
had
anticipated
many
answers
,
but
not
this
one
,
and
now
it
was
unexpectedly
made
plain
to
him
that
it
was
the
chance
of
seeing
Katharine
that
had
brought
him
all
the
way
to
Chelsea
on
pretence
of
seeing
her
father
.
He
made
some
show
of
considering
the
matter
,
and
was
taken
upstairs
to
the
drawing-room
.
As
upon
that
first
occasion
,
some
weeks
ago
,
the
door
closed
as
if
it
were
a
thousand
doors
softly
excluding
the
world
;
and
once
more
Ralph
received
an
impression
of
a
room
full
of
deep
shadows
,
firelight
,
unwavering
silver
candle
flames
,
and
empty
spaces
to
be
crossed
before
reaching
the
round
table
in
the
middle
of
the
room
,
with
its
frail
burden
of
silver
trays
and
china
teacups
.
But
this
time
Katharine
was
there
by
herself
;
the
volume
in
her
hand
showed
that
she
expected
no
visitors
.
Ralph
said
something
about
hoping
to
find
her
father
.
“
My
father
is
out
,
”
she
replied
.
“
But
if
you
can
wait
,
I
expect
him
soon
.
”
It
might
have
been
due
merely
to
politeness
,
but
Ralph
felt
that
she
received
him
almost
with
cordiality
.
Perhaps
she
was
bored
by
drinking
tea
and
reading
a
book
all
alone
;
at
any
rate
,
she
tossed
the
book
on
to
a
sofa
with
a
gesture
of
relief
.
“
Is
that
one
of
the
moderns
whom
you
despise
?
”
he
asked
,
smiling
at
the
carelessness
of
her
gesture
.
“
Yes
,
”
she
replied
.
“
I
think
even
you
would
despise
him
.
”
“
Even
I
?
”
he
repeated
.
“
Why
even
I
?
”
“
You
said
you
liked
modern
things
;
I
said
I
hated
them
.
”
This
was
not
a
very
accurate
report
of
their
conversation
among
the
relics
,
perhaps
,
but
Ralph
was
flattered
to
think
that
she
remembered
anything
about
it
.
“
Or
did
I
confess
that
I
hated
all
books
?
”
she
went
on
,
seeing
him
look
up
with
an
air
of
inquiry
.
“
I
forget
—
”
“
Do
you
hate
all
books
?
”
he
asked
.
“
It
would
be
absurd
to
say
that
I
hate
all
books
when
I’ve
only
read
ten
,
perhaps
;
but
—
’
Here
she
pulled
herself
up
short
.
“
Well
?
”
“
Yes
,
I
do
hate
books
,
”
she
continued
.
“
Why
do
you
want
to
be
for
ever
talking
about
your
feelings
?
That’s
what
I
can’t
make
out
.
And
poetry’s
all
about
feelings
—
novels
are
all
about
feelings
.
”
She
cut
a
cake
vigorously
into
slices
,
and
providing
a
tray
with
bread
and
butter
for
Mrs.
Hilbery
,
who
was
in
her
room
with
a
cold
,
she
rose
to
go
upstairs
.
Ralph
held
the
door
open
for
her
,
and
then
stood
with
clasped
hands
in
the
middle
of
the
room
.
His
eyes
were
bright
,
and
,
indeed
,
he
scarcely
knew
whether
they
beheld
dreams
or
realities
.
All
down
the
street
and
on
the
doorstep
,
and
while
he
mounted
the
stairs
,
his
dream
of
Katharine
possessed
him
;
on
the
threshold
of
the
room
he
had
dismissed
it
,
in
order
to
prevent
too
painful
a
collision
between
what
he
dreamt
of
her
and
what
she
was
.
And
in
five
minutes
she
had
filled
the
shell
of
the
old
dream
with
the
flesh
of
life
;
looked
with
fire
out
of
phantom
eyes
.
He
glanced
about
him
with
bewilderment
at
finding
himself
among
her
chairs
and
tables
;
they
were
solid
,
for
he
grasped
the
back
of
the
chair
in
which
Katharine
had
sat
;
and
yet
they
were
unreal
;
the
atmosphere
was
that
of
a
dream
.
He
summoned
all
the
faculties
of
his
spirit
to
seize
what
the
minutes
had
to
give
him
;
and
from
the
depths
of
his
mind
there
rose
unchecked
a
joyful
recognition
of
the
truth
that
human
nature
surpasses
,
in
its
beauty
,
all
that
our
wildest
dreams
bring
us
hints
of
.
Katharine
came
into
the
room
a
moment
later
.
He
stood
watching
her
come
towards
him
,
and
thought
her
more
beautiful
and
strange
than
his
dream
of
her
;
for
the
real
Katharine
could
speak
the
words
which
seemed
to
crowd
behind
the
forehead
and
in
the
depths
of
the
eyes
,
and
the
commonest
sentence
would
be
flashed
on
by
this
immortal
light
.
And
she
overflowed
the
edges
of
the
dream
;
he
remarked
that
her
softness
was
like
that
of
some
vast
snowy
owl
;
she
wore
a
ruby
on
her
finger
.
“
My
mother
wants
me
to
tell
you
,
”
she
said
,
“
that
she
hopes
you
have
begun
your
poem
.
She
says
every
one
ought
to
write
poetry
...
.
All
my
relations
write
poetry
,
”
she
went
on
.
“
I
can’t
bear
to
think
of
it
sometimes
—
because
,
of
course
,
it’s
none
of
it
any
good
.
But
then
one
needn’t
read
it
—
”
“
You
don’t
encourage
me
to
write
a
poem
,
”
said
Ralph
.
“
But
you’re
not
a
poet
,
too
,
are
you
?
”
she
inquired
,
turning
upon
him
with
a
laugh
.
“
Should
I
tell
you
if
I
were
?
”
“
Yes
.
Because
I
think
you
speak
the
truth
,
”
she
said
,
searching
him
for
proof
of
this
apparently
,
with
eyes
now
almost
impersonally
direct
.
It
would
be
easy
,
Ralph
thought
,
to
worship
one
so
far
removed
,
and
yet
of
so
straight
a
nature
;
easy
to
submit
recklessly
to
her
,
without
thought
of
future
pain
.
“
Are
you
a
poet
?
”
she
demanded
.
He
felt
that
her
question
had
an
unexplained
weight
of
meaning
behind
it
,
as
if
she
sought
an
answer
to
a
question
that
she
did
not
ask
.
“
No.
I
haven’t
written
any
poetry
for
years
,
”
he
replied
.
“
But
all
the
same
,
I
don’t
agree
with
you
.
I
think
it’s
the
only
thing
worth
doing
.
”
“
Why
do
you
say
that
?
”
she
asked
,
almost
with
impatience
,
tapping
her
spoon
two
or
three
times
against
the
side
of
her
cup
.
“
Why
?
”
Ralph
laid
hands
on
the
first
words
that
came
to
mind
.
“
Because
,
I
suppose
,
it
keeps
an
ideal
alive
which
might
die
otherwise
.
”
A
curious
change
came
over
her
face
,
as
if
the
flame
of
her
mind
were
subdued
;
and
she
looked
at
him
ironically
and
with
the
expression
which
he
had
called
sad
before
,
for
want
of
a
better
name
for
it
.
“
I
don’t
know
that
there’s
much
sense
in
having
ideals
,
”
she
said
.
“
But
you
have
them
,
”
he
replied
energetically
.
“
Why
do
we
call
them
ideals
?
It’s
a
stupid
word
.
Dreams
,
I
mean
—
”
She
followed
his
words
with
parted
lips
,
as
though
to
answer
eagerly
when
he
had
done
;
but
as
he
said
,
“
Dreams
,
I
mean
,
”
the
door
of
the
drawing-room
swung
open
,
and
so
remained
for
a
perceptible
instant
.
They
both
held
themselves
silent
,
her
lips
still
parted
.
Far
off
,
they
heard
the
rustle
of
skirts
.
Then
the
owner
of
the
skirts
appeared
in
the
doorway
,
which
she
almost
filled
,
nearly
concealing
the
figure
of
a
very
much
smaller
lady
who
accompanied
her
.
“
My
aunts
!
”
Katharine
murmured
,
under
her
breath
.
Her
tone
had
a
hint
of
tragedy
in
it
,
but
no
less
,
Ralph
thought
,
than
the
situation
required
.
She
addressed
the
larger
lady
as
Aunt
Millicent
;
the
smaller
was
Aunt
Celia
,
Mrs.
Milvain
,
who
had
lately
undertaken
the
task
of
marrying
Cyril
to
his
wife
.
Both
ladies
,
but
Mrs.
Cosham
(
Aunt
Millicent
)
in
particular
,
had
that
look
of
heightened
,
smoothed
,
incarnadined
existence
which
is
proper
to
elderly
ladies
paying
calls
in
London
about
five
o’clock
in
the
afternoon
.
Portraits
by
Romney
,
seen
through
glass
,
have
something
of
their
pink
,
mellow
look
,
their
blooming
softness
,
as
of
apricots
hanging
upon
a
red
wall
in
the
afternoon
sun
.
Mrs.
Cosham
was
so
appareled
with
hanging
muffs
,
chains
,
and
swinging
draperies
that
it
was
impossible
to
detect
the
shape
of
a
human
being
in
the
mass
of
brown
and
black
which
filled
the
arm-chair
.
Mrs.
Milvain
was
a
much
slighter
figure
;
but
the
same
doubt
as
to
the
precise
lines
of
her
contour
filled
Ralph
,
as
he
regarded
them
,
with
dismal
foreboding
.
What
remark
of
his
would
ever
reach
these
fabulous
and
fantastic
characters
?
—
for
there
was
something
fantastically
unreal
in
the
curious
swayings
and
noddings
of
Mrs.
Cosham
,
as
if
her
equipment
included
a
large
wire
spring
.
Her
voice
had
a
high-pitched
,
cooing
note
,
which
prolonged
words
and
cut
them
short
until
the
English
language
seemed
no
longer
fit
for
common
purposes
.
In
a
moment
of
nervousness
,
so
Ralph
thought
,
Katharine
had
turned
on
innumerable
electric
lights
.
But
Mrs.
Cosham
had
gained
impetus
(
perhaps
her
swaying
movements
had
that
end
in
view
)
for
sustained
speech
;
and
she
now
addressed
Ralph
deliberately
and
elaborately
.
“
I
come
from
Woking
,
Mr.
Popham
.
You
may
well
ask
me
,
why
Woking
?
and
to
that
I
answer
,
for
perhaps
the
hundredth
time
,
because
of
the
sunsets
.
We
went
there
for
the
sunsets
,
but
that
was
five-and-twenty
years
ago
.
Where
are
the
sunsets
now
?
Alas
!
There
is
no
sunset
now
nearer
than
the
South
Coast
.
”
Her
rich
and
romantic
notes
were
accompanied
by
a
wave
of
a
long
white
hand
,
which
,
when
waved
,
gave
off
a
flash
of
diamonds
,
rubies
,
and
emeralds
.
Ralph
wondered
whether
she
more
resembled
an
elephant
,
with
a
jeweled
head-dress
,
or
a
superb
cockatoo
,
balanced
insecurely
upon
its
perch
,
and
pecking
capriciously
at
a
lump
of
sugar
.
“
Where
are
the
sunsets
now
?
”
she
repeated
.
“
Do
you
find
sunsets
now
,
Mr.
Popham
?
”
“
I
live
at
Highgate
,
”
he
replied
.
“
At
Highgate
?
Yes
,
Highgate
has
its
charms
;
your
Uncle
John
lived
at
Highgate
,
”
she
jerked
in
the
direction
of
Katharine
.
She
sank
her
head
upon
her
breast
,
as
if
for
a
moment’s
meditation
,
which
past
,
she
looked
up
and
observed
:
“
I
dare
say
there
are
very
pretty
lanes
in
Highgate
.
I
can
recollect
walking
with
your
mother
,
Katharine
,
through
lanes
blossoming
with
wild
hawthorn
.
But
where
is
the
hawthorn
now
?
You
remember
that
exquisite
description
in
De
Quincey
,
Mr.
Popham
?
—
but
I
forget
,
you
,
in
your
generation
,
with
all
your
activity
and
enlightenment
,
at
which
I
can
only
marvel
”
—
here
she
displayed
both
her
beautiful
white
hands
—
“
do
not
read
De
Quincey
.
You
have
your
Belloc
,
your
Chesterton
,
your
Bernard
Shaw
—
why
should
you
read
De
Quincey
?
”
“
But
I
do
read
De
Quincey
,
”
Ralph
protested
,
“
more
than
Belloc
and
Chesterton
,
anyhow
.
”
“
Indeed
!
”
exclaimed
Mrs.
Cosham
,
with
a
gesture
of
surprise
and
relief
mingled
.
“
You
are
,
then
,
a
‘rara
avis’
in
your
generation
.
I
am
delighted
to
meet
anyone
who
reads
De
Quincey
.
”
Here
she
hollowed
her
hand
into
a
screen
,
and
,
leaning
towards
Katharine
,
inquired
,
in
a
very
audible
whisper
,
“
Does
your
friend
write
?
”
“
Mr.
Denham
,
”
said
Katharine
,
with
more
than
her
usual
clearness
and
firmness
,
“
writes
for
the
Review
.
He
is
a
lawyer
.
”
“
The
clean-shaven
lips
,
showing
the
expression
of
the
mouth
!
I
recognize
them
at
once
.
I
always
feel
at
home
with
lawyers
,
Mr.
Denham
—
”
“
They
used
to
come
about
so
much
in
the
old
days
,
”
Mrs.
Milvain
interposed
,
the
frail
,
silvery
notes
of
her
voice
falling
with
the
sweet
tone
of
an
old
bell
.
“
You
say
you
live
at
Highgate
,
”
she
continued
.
“
I
wonder
whether
you
happen
to
know
if
there
is
an
old
house
called
Tempest
Lodge
still
in
existence
—
an
old
white
house
in
a
garden
?
”
Ralph
shook
his
head
,
and
she
sighed
.
“
Ah
,
no
;
it
must
have
been
pulled
down
by
this
time
,
with
all
the
other
old
houses
.
There
were
such
pretty
lanes
in
those
days
.
That
was
how
your
uncle
met
your
Aunt
Emily
,
you
know
,
”
she
addressed
Katharine
.
“
They
walked
home
through
the
lanes
.
”
“
A
sprig
of
May
in
her
bonnet
,
”
Mrs.
Cosham
ejaculated
,
reminiscently
.
“
And
next
Sunday
he
had
violets
in
his
buttonhole
.
And
that
was
how
we
guessed
.
”
Katharine
laughed
.
She
looked
at
Ralph
.
His
eyes
were
meditative
,
and
she
wondered
what
he
found
in
this
old
gossip
to
make
him
ponder
so
contentedly
.
She
felt
,
she
hardly
knew
why
,
a
curious
pity
for
him
.
“
Uncle
John
—
yes
,
‘poor
John
,
’
you
always
called
him
.
Why
was
that
?
”
she
asked
,
to
make
them
go
on
talking
,
which
,
indeed
,
they
needed
little
invitation
to
do
.
“
That
was
what
his
father
,
old
Sir
Richard
,
always
called
him
.
Poor
John
,
or
the
fool
of
the
family
,
”
Mrs.
Milvain
hastened
to
inform
them
.
“
The
other
boys
were
so
brilliant
,
and
he
could
never
pass
his
examinations
,
so
they
sent
him
to
India
—
a
long
voyage
in
those
days
,
poor
fellow
.
You
had
your
own
room
,
you
know
,
and
you
did
it
up
.
But
he
will
get
his
knighthood
and
a
pension
,
I
believe
,
”
she
said
,
turning
to
Ralph
,
“
only
it
is
not
England
.
”
“
No
,
”
Mrs.
Cosham
confirmed
her
,
“
it
is
not
England
.
In
those
days
we
thought
an
Indian
Judgeship
about
equal
to
a
county-court
judgeship
at
home
.
His
Honor
—
a
pretty
title
,
but
still
,
not
at
the
top
of
the
tree
.
However
,
”
she
sighed
,
“
if
you
have
a
wife
and
seven
children
,
and
people
nowadays
very
quickly
forget
your
father’s
name
—
well
,
you
have
to
take
what
you
can
get
,
”
she
concluded
.
“
And
I
fancy
,
”
Mrs.
Milvain
resumed
,
lowering
her
voice
rather
confidentially
,
“
that
John
would
have
done
more
if
it
hadn’t
been
for
his
wife
,
your
Aunt
Emily
.
She
was
a
very
good
woman
,
devoted
to
him
,
of
course
,
but
she
was
not
ambitious
for
him
,
and
if
a
wife
isn’t
ambitious
for
her
husband
,
especially
in
a
profession
like
the
law
,
clients
soon
get
to
know
of
it
.
In
our
young
days
,
Mr.
Denham
,
we
used
to
say
that
we
knew
which
of
our
friends
would
become
judges
,
by
looking
at
the
girls
they
married
.
And
so
it
was
,
and
so
,
I
fancy
,
it
always
will
be
.
I
don’t
think
,
”
she
added
,
summing
up
these
scattered
remarks
,
“
that
any
man
is
really
happy
unless
he
succeeds
in
his
profession
.
”
Mrs.
Cosham
approved
of
this
sentiment
with
more
ponderous
sagacity
from
her
side
of
the
tea-table
,
in
the
first
place
by
swaying
her
head
,
and
in
the
second
by
remarking
:
“
No
,
men
are
not
the
same
as
women
.
I
fancy
Alfred
Tennyson
spoke
the
truth
about
that
as
about
many
other
things
.
How
I
wish
he’d
lived
to
write
‘The
Prince’
—
a
sequel
to
‘The
Princess’
!
I
confess
I’m
almost
tired
of
Princesses
.
We
want
some
one
to
show
us
what
a
good
man
can
be
.
We
have
Laura
and
Beatrice
,
Antigone
and
Cordelia
,
but
we
have
no
heroic
man
.
How
do
you
,
as
a
poet
,
account
for
that
,
Mr.
Denham
?
”
“
I’m
not
a
poet
,
”
said
Ralph
good-humoredly
.
“
I’m
only
a
solicitor
.
”
“
But
you
write
,
too
?
”
Mrs.
Cosham
demanded
,
afraid
lest
she
should
be
balked
of
her
priceless
discovery
,
a
young
man
truly
devoted
to
literature
.
“
In
my
spare
time
,
”
Denham
reassured
her
.
“
In
your
spare
time
!
”
Mrs.
Cosham
echoed
.
“
That
is
a
proof
of
devotion
,
indeed
.
”
She
half
closed
her
eyes
,
and
indulged
herself
in
a
fascinating
picture
of
a
briefless
barrister
lodged
in
a
garret
,
writing
immortal
novels
by
the
light
of
a
farthing
dip
.
But
the
romance
which
fell
upon
the
figures
of
great
writers
and
illumined
their
pages
was
no
false
radiance
in
her
case
.
She
carried
her
pocket
Shakespeare
about
with
her
,
and
met
life
fortified
by
the
words
of
the
poets
.
How
far
she
saw
Denham
,
and
how
far
she
confused
him
with
some
hero
of
fiction
,
it
would
be
hard
to
say
.
Literature
had
taken
possession
even
of
her
memories
.
She
was
matching
him
,
presumably
,
with
certain
characters
in
the
old
novels
,
for
she
came
out
,
after
a
pause
,
with
:
“
Um
—
um
—
Pendennis
—
Warrington
—
I
could
never
forgive
Laura
,
”
she
pronounced
energetically
,
“
for
not
marrying
George
,
in
spite
of
everything
.
George
Eliot
did
the
very
same
thing
;
and
Lewes
was
a
little
frog-faced
man
,
with
the
manner
of
a
dancing
master
.
But
Warrington
,
now
,
had
everything
in
his
favor
;
intellect
,
passion
,
romance
,
distinction
,
and
the
connection
was
a
mere
piece
of
undergraduate
folly
.
Arthur
,
I
confess
,
has
always
seemed
to
me
a
bit
of
a
fop
;
I
can’t
imagine
how
Laura
married
him
.
But
you
say
you’re
a
solicitor
,
Mr.
Denham
.
Now
there
are
one
or
two
things
I
should
like
to
ask
you
—
about
Shakespeare
—
”
She
drew
out
her
small
,
worn
volume
with
some
difficulty
,
opened
it
,
and
shook
it
in
the
air
.
“
They
say
,
nowadays
,
that
Shakespeare
was
a
lawyer
.
They
say
,
that
accounts
for
his
knowledge
of
human
nature
.
There’s
a
fine
example
for
you
,
Mr.
Denham
.
Study
your
clients
,
young
man
,
and
the
world
will
be
the
richer
one
of
these
days
,
I
have
no
doubt
.
Tell
me
,
how
do
we
come
out
of
it
,
now
;
better
or
worse
than
you
expected
?
”
Thus
called
upon
to
sum
up
the
worth
of
human
nature
in
a
few
words
,
Ralph
answered
unhesitatingly
:
“
Worse
,
Mrs.
Cosham
,
a
good
deal
worse
.
I’m
afraid
the
ordinary
man
is
a
bit
of
a
rascal
—
”
“
And
the
ordinary
woman
?
”
“
No
,
I
don’t
like
the
ordinary
woman
either
—
”
“
Ah
,
dear
me
,
I’ve
no
doubt
that’s
very
true
,
very
true
.
”
Mrs.
Cosham
sighed
.
“
Swift
would
have
agreed
with
you
,
anyhow
—
”
She
looked
at
him
,
and
thought
that
there
were
signs
of
distinct
power
in
his
brow
.
He
would
do
well
,
she
thought
,
to
devote
himself
to
satire
.
“
Charles
Lavington
,
you
remember
,
was
a
solicitor
,
”
Mrs.
Milvain
interposed
,
rather
resenting
the
waste
of
time
involved
in
talking
about
fictitious
people
when
you
might
be
talking
about
real
people
.
“
But
you
wouldn’t
remember
him
,
Katharine
.
”
“
Mr.
Lavington
?
Oh
,
yes
,
I
do
,
”
said
Katharine
,
waking
from
other
thoughts
with
her
little
start
.
“
The
summer
we
had
a
house
near
Tenby
.
I
remember
the
field
and
the
pond
with
the
tadpoles
,
and
making
haystacks
with
Mr.
Lavington
.
”
“
She
is
right
.
There
was
a
pond
with
tadpoles
,
”
Mrs.
Cosham
corroborated
.
“
Millais
made
studies
of
it
for
‘Ophelia.’
Some
say
that
is
the
best
picture
he
ever
painted
—
”
“
And
I
remember
the
dog
chained
up
in
the
yard
,
and
the
dead
snakes
hanging
in
the
toolhouse
.
”
“
It
was
at
Tenby
that
you
were
chased
by
the
bull
,
”
Mrs.
Milvain
continued
.
“
But
that
you
couldn’t
remember
,
though
it’s
true
you
were
a
wonderful
child
.
Such
eyes
she
had
,
Mr.
Denham
!
I
used
to
say
to
her
father
,
‘She’s
watching
us
,
and
summing
us
all
up
in
her
little
mind.’
And
they
had
a
nurse
in
those
days
,
”
she
went
on
,
telling
her
story
with
charming
solemnity
to
Ralph
,
“
who
was
a
good
woman
,
but
engaged
to
a
sailor
.
When
she
ought
to
have
been
attending
to
the
baby
,
her
eyes
were
on
the
sea
.
And
Mrs.
Hilbery
allowed
this
girl
—
Susan
her
name
was
—
to
have
him
to
stay
in
the
village
.
They
abused
her
goodness
,
I’m
sorry
to
say
,
and
while
they
walked
in
the
lanes
,
they
stood
the
perambulator
alone
in
a
field
where
there
was
a
bull
.
The
animal
became
enraged
by
the
red
blanket
in
the
perambulator
,
and
Heaven
knows
what
might
have
happened
if
a
gentleman
had
not
been
walking
by
in
the
nick
of
time
,
and
rescued
Katharine
in
his
arms
!
”
“
I
think
the
bull
was
only
a
cow
,
Aunt
Celia
,
”
said
Katharine
.
“
My
darling
,
it
was
a
great
red
Devonshire
bull
,
and
not
long
after
it
gored
a
man
to
death
and
had
to
be
destroyed
.
And
your
mother
forgave
Susan
—
a
thing
I
could
never
have
done
.
”
“
Maggie’s
sympathies
were
entirely
with
Susan
and
the
sailor
,
I
am
sure
,
”
said
Mrs.
Cosham
,
rather
tartly
.
“
My
sister-in-law
,
”
she
continued
,
“
has
laid
her
burdens
upon
Providence
at
every
crisis
in
her
life
,
and
Providence
,
I
must
confess
,
has
responded
nobly
,
so
far
—
”
“
Yes
,
”
said
Katharine
,
with
a
laugh
,
for
she
liked
the
rashness
which
irritated
the
rest
of
the
family
.
“
My
mother’s
bulls
always
turn
into
cows
at
the
critical
moment
.
”
“
Well
,
”
said
Mrs.
Milvain
,
“
I’m
glad
you
have
some
one
to
protect
you
from
bulls
now
.
”
“
I
can’t
imagine
William
protecting
any
one
from
bulls
,
”
said
Katharine
.
It
happened
that
Mrs.
Cosham
had
once
more
produced
her
pocket
volume
of
Shakespeare
,
and
was
consulting
Ralph
upon
an
obscure
passage
in
“
Measure
for
Measure
.
”
He
did
not
at
once
seize
the
meaning
of
what
Katharine
and
her
aunt
were
saying
;
William
,
he
supposed
,
referred
to
some
small
cousin
,
for
he
now
saw
Katharine
as
a
child
in
a
pinafore
;
but
,
nevertheless
,
he
was
so
much
distracted
that
his
eye
could
hardly
follow
the
words
on
the
paper
.
A
moment
later
he
heard
them
speak
distinctly
of
an
engagement
ring
.
“
I
like
rubies
,
”
he
heard
Katharine
say
.
“
To
be
imprison’d
in
the
viewless
winds
,
And
blown
with
restless
violence
round
about
The
pendant
world
...
.
”
Mrs.
Cosham
intoned
;
at
the
same
instant
“
Rodney
”
fitted
itself
to
“
William
”
in
Ralph’s
mind
.
He
felt
convinced
that
Katharine
was
engaged
to
Rodney
.
His
first
sensation
was
one
of
violent
rage
with
her
for
having
deceived
him
throughout
the
visit
,
fed
him
with
pleasant
old
wives’
tales
,
let
him
see
her
as
a
child
playing
in
a
meadow
,
shared
her
youth
with
him
,
while
all
the
time
she
was
a
stranger
entirely
,
and
engaged
to
marry
Rodney
.
But
was
it
possible
?
Surely
it
was
not
possible
.
For
in
his
eyes
she
was
still
a
child
.
He
paused
so
long
over
the
book
that
Mrs.
Cosham
had
time
to
look
over
his
shoulder
and
ask
her
niece
:
“
And
have
you
settled
upon
a
house
yet
,
Katharine
?
”
This
convinced
him
of
the
truth
of
the
monstrous
idea
.
He
looked
up
at
once
and
said
:
“
Yes
,
it’s
a
difficult
passage
.
”
His
voice
had
changed
so
much
,
he
spoke
with
such
curtness
and
even
with
such
contempt
,
that
Mrs.
Cosham
looked
at
him
fairly
puzzled
.
Happily
she
belonged
to
a
generation
which
expected
uncouthness
in
its
men
,
and
she
merely
felt
convinced
that
this
Mr.
Denham
was
very
,
very
clever
.
She
took
back
her
Shakespeare
,
as
Denham
seemed
to
have
no
more
to
say
,
and
secreted
it
once
more
about
her
person
with
the
infinitely
pathetic
resignation
of
the
old
.
“
Katharine’s
engaged
to
William
Rodney
,
”
she
said
,
by
way
of
filling
in
the
pause
;
“
a
very
old
friend
of
ours
.
He
has
a
wonderful
knowledge
of
literature
,
too
—
wonderful
.
”
She
nodded
her
head
rather
vaguely
.
“
You
should
meet
each
other
.
”
Denham’s
one
wish
was
to
leave
the
house
as
soon
as
he
could
;
but
the
elderly
ladies
had
risen
,
and
were
proposing
to
visit
Mrs.
Hilbery
in
her
bedroom
,
so
that
any
move
on
his
part
was
impossible
.
At
the
same
time
,
he
wished
to
say
something
,
but
he
knew
not
what
,
to
Katharine
alone
.
She
took
her
aunts
upstairs
,
and
returned
,
coming
towards
him
once
more
with
an
air
of
innocence
and
friendliness
that
amazed
him
.
“
My
father
will
be
back
,
”
she
said
.
“
Won’t
you
sit
down
?
”
and
she
laughed
,
as
if
now
they
might
share
a
perfectly
friendly
laugh
at
the
tea-party
.
But
Ralph
made
no
attempt
to
seat
himself
.
“
I
must
congratulate
you
,
”
he
said
.
“
It
was
news
to
me
.
”
He
saw
her
face
change
,
but
only
to
become
graver
than
before
.
“
My
engagement
?
”
she
asked
.
“
Yes
,
I
am
going
to
marry
William
Rodney
.
”
Ralph
remained
standing
with
his
hand
on
the
back
of
a
chair
in
absolute
silence
.
Abysses
seemed
to
plunge
into
darkness
between
them
.
He
looked
at
her
,
but
her
face
showed
that
she
was
not
thinking
of
him
.
No
regret
or
consciousness
of
wrong
disturbed
her
.
“
Well
,
I
must
go
,
”
he
said
at
length
.
She
seemed
about
to
say
something
,
then
changed
her
mind
and
said
merely
:
“
You
will
come
again
,
I
hope
.
We
always
seem
”
—
she
hesitated
—
“
to
be
interrupted
.
”
He
bowed
and
left
the
room
.
Ralph
strode
with
extreme
swiftness
along
the
Embankment
.
Every
muscle
was
taut
and
braced
as
if
to
resist
some
sudden
attack
from
outside
.
For
the
moment
it
seemed
as
if
the
attack
were
about
to
be
directed
against
his
body
,
and
his
brain
thus
was
on
the
alert
,
but
without
understanding
.
Finding
himself
,
after
a
few
minutes
,
no
longer
under
observation
,
and
no
attack
delivered
,
he
slackened
his
pace
,
the
pain
spread
all
through
him
,
took
possession
of
every
governing
seat
,
and
met
with
scarcely
any
resistance
from
powers
exhausted
by
their
first
effort
at
defence
.
He
took
his
way
languidly
along
the
river
embankment
,
away
from
home
rather
than
towards
it
.
The
world
had
him
at
its
mercy
.
He
made
no
pattern
out
of
the
sights
he
saw
.
He
felt
himself
now
,
as
he
had
often
fancied
other
people
,
adrift
on
the
stream
,
and
far
removed
from
control
of
it
,
a
man
with
no
grasp
upon
circumstances
any
longer
.
Old
battered
men
loafing
at
the
doors
of
public-houses
now
seemed
to
be
his
fellows
,
and
he
felt
,
as
he
supposed
them
to
feel
,
a
mingling
of
envy
and
hatred
towards
those
who
passed
quickly
and
certainly
to
a
goal
of
their
own
.
They
,
too
,
saw
things
very
thin
and
shadowy
,
and
were
wafted
about
by
the
lightest
breath
of
wind
.
For
the
substantial
world
,
with
its
prospect
of
avenues
leading
on
and
on
to
the
invisible
distance
,
had
slipped
from
him
,
since
Katharine
was
engaged
.
Now
all
his
life
was
visible
,
and
the
straight
,
meager
path
had
its
ending
soon
enough
.
Katharine
was
engaged
,
and
she
had
deceived
him
,
too
.
He
felt
for
corners
of
his
being
untouched
by
his
disaster
;
but
there
was
no
limit
to
the
flood
of
damage
;
not
one
of
his
possessions
was
safe
now
.
Katharine
had
deceived
him
;
she
had
mixed
herself
with
every
thought
of
his
,
and
reft
of
her
they
seemed
false
thoughts
which
he
would
blush
to
think
again
.
His
life
seemed
immeasurably
impoverished
.
He
sat
himself
down
,
in
spite
of
the
chilly
fog
which
obscured
the
farther
bank
and
left
its
lights
suspended
upon
a
blank
surface
,
upon
one
of
the
riverside
seats
,
and
let
the
tide
of
disillusionment
sweep
through
him
.
For
the
time
being
all
bright
points
in
his
life
were
blotted
out
;
all
prominences
leveled
.
At
first
he
made
himself
believe
that
Katharine
had
treated
him
badly
,
and
drew
comfort
from
the
thought
that
,
left
alone
,
she
would
recollect
this
,
and
think
of
him
and
tender
him
,
in
silence
,
at
any
rate
,
an
apology
.
But
this
grain
of
comfort
failed
him
after
a
second
or
two
,
for
,
upon
reflection
,
he
had
to
admit
that
Katharine
owed
him
nothing
.
Katharine
had
promised
nothing
,
taken
nothing
;
to
her
his
dreams
had
meant
nothing
.
This
,
indeed
,
was
the
lowest
pitch
of
his
despair
.
If
the
best
of
one’s
feelings
means
nothing
to
the
person
most
concerned
in
those
feelings
,
what
reality
is
left
us
?
The
old
romance
which
had
warmed
his
days
for
him
,
the
thoughts
of
Katharine
which
had
painted
every
hour
,
were
now
made
to
appear
foolish
and
enfeebled
.
He
rose
,
and
looked
into
the
river
,
whose
swift
race
of
dun-colored
waters
seemed
the
very
spirit
of
futility
and
oblivion
.
“
In
what
can
one
trust
,
then
?
”
he
thought
,
as
he
leant
there
.
So
feeble
and
insubstantial
did
he
feel
himself
that
he
repeated
the
word
aloud
.
“
In
what
can
one
trust
?
Not
in
men
and
women
.
Not
in
one’s
dreams
about
them
.
There’s
nothing
—
nothing
,
nothing
left
at
all
.
”
Now
Denham
had
reason
to
know
that
he
could
bring
to
birth
and
keep
alive
a
fine
anger
when
he
chose
.
Rodney
provided
a
good
target
for
that
emotion
.
And
yet
at
the
moment
,
Rodney
and
Katharine
herself
seemed
disembodied
ghosts
.
He
could
scarcely
remember
the
look
of
them
.
His
mind
plunged
lower
and
lower
.
Their
marriage
seemed
of
no
importance
to
him
.
All
things
had
turned
to
ghosts
;
the
whole
mass
of
the
world
was
insubstantial
vapor
,
surrounding
the
solitary
spark
in
his
mind
,
whose
burning
point
he
could
remember
,
for
it
burnt
no
more
.
He
had
once
cherished
a
belief
,
and
Katharine
had
embodied
this
belief
,
and
she
did
so
no
longer
.
He
did
not
blame
her
;
he
blamed
nothing
,
nobody
;
he
saw
the
truth
.
He
saw
the
dun-colored
race
of
waters
and
the
blank
shore
.
But
life
is
vigorous
;
the
body
lives
,
and
the
body
,
no
doubt
,
dictated
the
reflection
,
which
now
urged
him
to
movement
,
that
one
may
cast
away
the
forms
of
human
beings
,
and
yet
retain
the
passion
which
seemed
inseparable
from
their
existence
in
the
flesh
.
Now
this
passion
burnt
on
his
horizon
,
as
the
winter
sun
makes
a
greenish
pane
in
the
west
through
thinning
clouds
.
His
eyes
were
set
on
something
infinitely
far
and
remote
;
by
that
light
he
felt
he
could
walk
,
and
would
,
in
future
,
have
to
find
his
way
.
But
that
was
all
there
was
left
to
him
of
a
populous
and
teeming
world
.
CHAPTER
XIII
The
lunch
hour
in
the
office
was
only
partly
spent
by
Denham
in
the
consumption
of
food
.
Whether
fine
or
wet
,
he
passed
most
of
it
pacing
the
gravel
paths
in
Lincoln’s
Inn
Fields
.
The
children
got
to
know
his
figure
,
and
the
sparrows
expected
their
daily
scattering
of
bread-crumbs
.
No
doubt
,
since
he
often
gave
a
copper
and
almost
always
a
handful
of
bread
,
he
was
not
as
blind
to
his
surroundings
as
he
thought
himself
.
He
thought
that
these
winter
days
were
spent
in
long
hours
before
white
papers
radiant
in
electric
light
;
and
in
short
passages
through
fog-dimmed
streets
.
When
he
came
back
to
his
work
after
lunch
he
carried
in
his
head
a
picture
of
the
Strand
,
scattered
with
omnibuses
,
and
of
the
purple
shapes
of
leaves
pressed
flat
upon
the
gravel
,
as
if
his
eyes
had
always
been
bent
upon
the
ground
.
His
brain
worked
incessantly
,
but
his
thought
was
attended
with
so
little
joy
that
he
did
not
willingly
recall
it
;
but
drove
ahead
,
now
in
this
direction
,
now
in
that
;
and
came
home
laden
with
dark
books
borrowed
from
a
library
.
Mary
Datchet
,
coming
from
the
Strand
at
lunch-time
,
saw
him
one
day
taking
his
turn
,
closely
buttoned
in
an
overcoat
,
and
so
lost
in
thought
that
he
might
have
been
sitting
in
his
own
room
.
She
was
overcome
by
something
very
like
awe
by
the
sight
of
him
;
then
she
felt
much
inclined
to
laugh
,
although
her
pulse
beat
faster
.
She
passed
him
,
and
he
never
saw
her
.
She
came
back
and
touched
him
on
the
shoulder
.
“
Gracious
,
Mary
!
”
he
exclaimed
.
“
How
you
startled
me
!
”
“
Yes
.
You
looked
as
if
you
were
walking
in
your
sleep
,
”
she
said
.
“
Are
you
arranging
some
terrible
love
affair
?
Have
you
got
to
reconcile
a
desperate
couple
?
”
“
I
wasn’t
thinking
about
my
work
,
”
Ralph
replied
,
rather
hastily
.
“
And
,
besides
,
that
sort
of
thing’s
not
in
my
line
,
”
he
added
,
rather
grimly
.
The
morning
was
fine
,
and
they
had
still
some
minutes
of
leisure
to
spend
.
They
had
not
met
for
two
or
three
weeks
,
and
Mary
had
much
to
say
to
Ralph
;
but
she
was
not
certain
how
far
he
wished
for
her
company
.
However
,
after
a
turn
or
two
,
in
which
a
few
facts
were
communicated
,
he
suggested
sitting
down
,
and
she
took
the
seat
beside
him
.
The
sparrows
came
fluttering
about
them
,
and
Ralph
produced
from
his
pocket
the
half
of
a
roll
saved
from
his
luncheon
.
He
threw
a
few
crumbs
among
them
.
“
I’ve
never
seen
sparrows
so
tame
,
”
Mary
observed
,
by
way
of
saying
something
.
“
No
,
”
said
Ralph
.
“
The
sparrows
in
Hyde
Park
aren’t
as
tame
as
this
.
If
we
keep
perfectly
still
,
I’ll
get
one
to
settle
on
my
arm
.
”
Mary
felt
that
she
could
have
forgone
this
display
of
animal
good
temper
,
but
seeing
that
Ralph
,
for
some
curious
reason
,
took
a
pride
in
the
sparrows
,
she
bet
him
sixpence
that
he
would
not
succeed
.
“
Done
!
”
he
said
;
and
his
eye
,
which
had
been
gloomy
,
showed
a
spark
of
light
.
His
conversation
was
now
addressed
entirely
to
a
bald
cock-sparrow
,
who
seemed
bolder
than
the
rest
;
and
Mary
took
the
opportunity
of
looking
at
him
.
She
was
not
satisfied
;
his
face
was
worn
,
and
his
expression
stern
.
A
child
came
bowling
its
hoop
through
the
concourse
of
birds
,
and
Ralph
threw
his
last
crumbs
of
