n'tyou
understand
,
Marjorie
?
Will
you
never
understand
?
I
'm
getting
away
from
all
that
!
I
'm
being
hustled
away
by
all
this
work
,
this
silly
everyday
work
to
get
money
.
Do
n't
you
see
that
unless
I
can
have
time
for
thought
and
research
,
life
is
just
darkness
to
me
?
I
've
made
myself
master
of
that
stuff
.
I
had
at
any
rate
.
No
one
can
do
what
I
can
do
there
.
And
when
I
find
myself
—
oh
,
shut
out
,
shut
out
!
I
come
near
raving
.
As
I
think
of
it
I
want
to
rave
again
.
"
He
paused
.
Then
with
a
swift
transition
:
"
I
suppose
I
'd
better
eat
some
breakfast
.
Is
that
egg
boiled
?
"
She
gave
him
an
egg
,
brought
his
coffee
,
put
things
before
him
,
seated
herself
at
the
table
.
For
a
little
while
he
ate
in
silence
.
Then
he
cursed
Behrens
.
"
Look
here
!
"
she
said
.
"
Bad
as
I
am
,
you
've
got
to
reason
with
me
,
Rag
.
I
did
n't
know
all
this
.
I
did
n't
understand
...
I
do
n't
know
what
to
do
.
"
"
What
is
there
to
do
?
"
"
I
've
got
to
do
something
.
I
'm
beginning
to
see
things
.
It
's
just
as
though
everything
had
become
clear
suddenly
.
"
She
was
weeping
.
"
Oh
,
my
dear
!
I
want
to
help
you
.
I
have
so
wanted
to
help
you
.
Always
.
And
it
's
come
to
this
!
"
"
But
it
's
not
your
fault
.
I
did
n't
mean
that
.
It
's
—
it
's
in
the
nature
of
things
.
"
"
It
's
my
fault
.
"
"
It
's
not
your
fault
.
"
"
It
is
.
"
"
Confound
it
,
Marjorie
.
When
I
swear
at
Behrens
I
'm
not
swearing
at
you
.
"
"
It
's
my
fault
.
All
this
is
my
fault
.
I
'm
eating
you
up
.
What
's
the
good
of
your
pretending
,
Rag
.
You
know
it
is
.
Oh
!
When
I
married
you
I
meant
to
make
you
happy
,
I
had
no
thought
but
to
make
you
happy
,
to
give
myself
to
you
,
my
body
,
my
brains
,
everything
,
to
make
life
beautiful
for
you
—
—
"
"
Well
,
have
n't
you
?
"
He
thrust
out
a
hand
she
did
not
take
.
"
I
've
broken
your
back
,
"
she
said
.
An
unwonted
resolution
came
into
her
face
.
Her
lips
whitened
.
"
Do
n't
you
know
,
Rag
,
"
she
said
,
forcing
herself
to
speak
—
—
"
Do
n't
you
guess
?
You
do
n't
know
half
!
In
that
bureau
there
—
—
In
there
!
It
's
stuffed
with
bills
.
Unpaid
bills
.
"
She
was
weeping
,
with
no
attempt
to
wipe
the
streaming
tears
away
;
terror
made
the
expression
of
her
wet
face
almost
fierce
.
"
Bills
,
"
she
repeated
.
"
More
than
a
hundred
pounds
still
.
Yes
!
Now
.
Now
!
"
He
drew
back
,
stared
at
her
and
with
no
trace
of
personal
animus
,
like
one
who
hears
of
a
common
disaster
,
remarked
with
a
quiet
emphasis
:
"
Oh
,
damn
!
"
"
I
know
,
"
she
said
,
"
Damn
!
"
and
met
his
eyes
.
There
was
a
long
silence
between
them
.
She
produced
a
handkerchief
and
wiped
her
eyes
.
"
That
's
what
I
amount
to
,
"
she
said
.
"
It
's
your
silly
upbringing
,
"
he
said
after
a
long
pause
.
"
And
my
silly
self
.
"
She
stood
up
,
unlocked
and
opened
her
littered
desk
,
turned
and
held
out
the
key
to
him
.
"
Why
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Take
it
.
You
gave
me
a
cheque-book
of
my
own
and
a
corner
of
my
own
,
and
they
—
they
are
just
ambushes
—
against
you
.
"
He
shook
his
head
.
"
Take
it
,
"
said
Marjorie
with
quiet
insistence
.
He
obeyed
.
She
stood
with
her
eyes
on
the
crumpled
heap
of
bills
.
They
were
not
even
tidily
arranged
.
That
seemed
to
her
now
an
extreme
aggravation
of
her
offence
.
"
I
ought
to
be
sent
to
the
chemist
's
,
"
she
remarked
,
"
as
one
sends
a
worthless
cat
.
"
Trafford
weighed
this
proposition
soberly
for
some
moments
.
"
You
're
a
bother
,
Marjorie
,
"
he
said
with
his
eyes
on
the
desk
;
"
no
end
of
a
bother
.
I
'd
better
have
those
bills
.
"
He
looked
at
her
,
stood
up
,
put
his
hands
on
her
shoulders
,
drew
her
to
him
and
kissed
her
forehead
.
He
did
it
without
passion
,
without
tenderness
,
with
something
like
resignation
in
his
manner
.
She
clung
to
him
tightly
,
as
though
by
clinging
she
could
warm
and
soften
him
.
"
Rag
,
"
she
whispered
;
"
all
my
heart
is
yours
...
.
I
want
to
help
you
...
.
And
this
is
what
I
have
done
.
"
"
I
know
,
"
he
said
—
almost
grimly
.
He
repeated
his
kiss
.
Then
he
seemed
to
explode
again
.
"
Gods
!
"
he
cried
,
"
look
at
the
clock
.
I
shall
miss
that
Croydon
lecture
!
"
He
pushed
her
from
him
.
"
Where
are
my
boots
?
...
"
Marjorie
spent
the
forenoon
and
the
earlier
part
of
the
afternoon
repeating
and
reviewing
this
conversation
.
Her
mind
was
full
of
the
long
disregarded
problem
of
her
husband
's
state
of
mind
.
She
thought
with
a
sympathetic
astonishment
of
his
swearing
,
of
his
startling
blow
upon
the
table
.
She
had
n't
so
far
known
he
could
swear
.
But
this
was
the
real
thing
,
the
relief
of
vehement
and
destructive
words
.
His
voice
,
saying
"
damnation
and
damnation
,
"
echoed
and
re-echoed
in
her
ears
.
Somehow
she
understood
that
as
she
had
never
understood
any
sober
statement
of
his
case
.
Such
women
as
Marjorie
,
I
think
,
have
an
altogether
keener
understanding
of
people
who
have
lost
control
of
themselves
than
they
have
of
reasoned
cases
.
Perhaps
that
is
because
they
themselves
always
reserve
something
when
they
state
a
reasoned
case
.
She
went
on
to
the
apprehension
of
a
change
in
him
that
hitherto
she
had
not
permitted
herself
to
see
—
a
change
in
his
attitude
to
her
.
There
had
been
a
time
when
she
had
seemed
able
without
an
effort
to
nestle
inside
his
heart
.
Now
she
felt
distinctly
for
the
first
time
that
that
had
n't
happened
.
She
had
instead
a
sense
of
her
embrace
sliding
over
a
rather
deliberately
contracted
exterior
...
.
Of
course
he
had
been
in
a
hurry
...
.
She
tried
to
follow
him
on
his
journey
to
Croydon
.
Now
he
'd
have
just
passed
out
of
London
Bridge
.
What
was
he
thinking
and
feeling
about
her
in
the
train
?
Now
he
would
be
going
into
the
place
,
wherever
it
was
,
where
he
gave
his
lecture
.
Did
he
think
of
Behrens
and
curse
her
under
his
breath
as
he
entered
that
tiresome
room
?
...
It
seemed
part
of
the
prevailing
inconvenience
of
life
that
Daffy
should
see
fit
to
pay
an
afternoon
call
.
Marjorie
heard
the
sobs
and
uproar
of
an
arrested
motor
,
and
glanced
discreetly
from
the
window
to
discover
the
dark
green
car
with
its
green-clad
chauffeur
which
now
adorned
her
sister
's
life
,
and
which
might
under
different
circumstances
,
have
adorned
her
own
.
Wilkins
—
his
name
was
Wilkins
,
his
hair
was
sandy
and
his
expression
discreet
,
and
he
afforded
material
for
much
quiet
humorous
observation
—
descended
smartly
and
opened
the
door
.
Daffy
appeared
in
black
velvet
,
with
a
huge
black
fur
muff
,
and
an
air
of
being
unaware
that
there
were
such
things
as
windows
in
the
world
.
It
was
just
four
,
and
the
cook-general
,
who
ought
to
have
been
now
in
her
housemaid
's
phase
,
was
still
upstairs
divesting
herself
of
her
more
culinary
characteristics
.
Marjorie
opened
the
door
.
"
Hullo
,
old
Daffy
!
"
she
said
.
"
Hullo
,
old
Madge
!
"
and
there
was
an
exchange
of
sisterly
kisses
and
a
mutual
inspection
.
"
Nothing
wrong
?
"
asked
Daffy
,
surveying
her
.
"
Wrong
?
"
"
You
look
pale
and
—
tired
about
the
eyes
,
"
said
Daffy
,
leading
the
way
into
the
drawing-room
.
"
Thought
you
might
be
a
bit
off
it
,
that
's
all
.
No
offence
,
Madge
.
"
"
I
'm
all
right
,
"
said
Marjorie
,
getting
her
back
to
the
light
.
"
Want
a
holiday
,
perhaps
.
How
's
every
one
?
"
"
All
right
.
We
're
off
to
Lake
Garda
next
week
.
This
new
play
has
taken
it
out
of
Will
tremendously
.
He
wants
a
rest
and
fresh
surroundings
.
It
's
to
be
the
biggest
piece
of
work
he
's
done
—
so
far
,
and
it
's
straining
him
.
And
people
worry
him
here
;
receptions
,
first
nights
,
dinners
,
speeches
.
He
's
so
neat
,
you
know
,
in
his
speeches
...
.
But
it
wastes
him
.
He
wants
to
get
away
.
How
's
Rag
?
"
"
Busy
.
"
"
Lecturing
?
"
"
And
his
Research
of
course
.
"
"
Oh
!
of
course
.
How
's
the
Babe
?
"
"
Just
in
.
Come
up
and
see
the
little
beast
,
Daffy
!
It
is
getting
so
pretty
,
and
it
talks
—
—
"
Margharita
dominated
intercourse
for
a
time
.
She
was
one
of
those
tactful
infants
who
exactly
resemble
their
fathers
and
exactly
resemble
their
mothers
,
and
have
a
charm
and
individuality
quite
distinctly
their
own
,
and
she
was
now
beginning
to
converse
with
startling
enterprise
and
intelligence
.
"
Big
,
big
,
bog
,
"
she
said
at
the
sight
of
Daffy
.
"
Remembers
you
,
"
said
Marjorie
.
"
Bog
!
Go
ta-ta
!
"
said
Margharita
.
"
There
!
"
said
Marjorie
,
and
May
,
the
nurse
in
the
background
,
smiled
unlimited
appreciation
.
"
Bably
,
"
said
Margharita
.
"
That
's
herself
!
"
said
Marjorie
,
falling
on
her
knees
.
"
She
talks
like
this
all
day
.
Oh
de
sweetums
,
den
!
"
Was
it
?
Daffy
made
amiable
gestures
and
canary-like
noises
with
her
lips
,
and
Margharita
responded
jovially
.
"
You
darling
!
"
cried
Marjorie
,
"
you
delight
of
life
,
"
kneeling
by
the
cot
and
giving
the
crowing
,
healthy
little
mite
a
passionate
hug
.
"
It
's
really
the
nicest
of
babies
,
"
Daffy
conceded
,
and
reflected
...
.
"
I
do
n't
know
what
I
should
do
with
a
kiddy
,
"
said
Daffy
,
as
the
infant
worship
came
to
an
end
;
"
I
'm
really
glad
we
have
n't
one
—
yet
.
He
'd
love
it
,
I
know
.
But
it
would
be
a
burthen
in
some
ways
.
They
are
a
tie
.
As
he
says
,
the
next
few
years
means
so
much
for
him
.
Of
course
,
here
his
reputation
is
immense
,
and
he
's
known
in
Germany
,
and
there
are
translations
into
Russian
;
but
he
's
still
got
to
conquer
America
,
and
he
is
n't
really
well
known
yet
in
France
.
They
read
him
,
of
course
,
and
buy
him
in
America
,
but
they
're
—
restive
.
Oh
!
I
do
so
wish
they
'd
give
him
the
Nobel
prize
,
Madge
,
and
have
done
with
it
!
It
would
settle
everything
.
Still
,
as
he
says
,
we
must
n't
think
of
that
—
yet
,
anyhow
.
He
is
n't
venerable
enough
.
It
's
doubtful
,
he
thinks
,
that
they
would
give
the
Nobel
prize
to
any
humorist
now
that
Mark
Twain
is
dead
.
Mark
Twain
was
different
,
you
see
,
because
of
the
German
Emperor
and
all
that
white
hair
and
everything
.
"
At
this
point
Margharita
discovered
that
the
conversation
had
drifted
away
from
herself
,
and
it
was
only
when
they
got
downstairs
again
that
Daffy
could
resume
the
thread
of
Magnet
's
career
,
which
had
evidently
become
the
predominant
interest
in
her
life
.
She
brought
out
all
the
worst
elements
of
Marjorie
's
nature
and
their
sisterly
relationship
.
There
were
moments
when
it
became
nakedly
apparent
that
she
was
magnifying
Magnet
to
belittle
Trafford
.
Marjorie
did
her
best
to
counter-brag
.
She
played
her
chief
card
in
the
F
.
R
.
S.
"
They
always
ask
Will
to
the
Royal
Society
Dinner
,
"
threw
out
Daffy
;
"
but
of
course
he
ca
n't
always
go
.
He
's
asked
to
so
many
things
.
"
Five
years
earlier
Marjorie
would
have
kicked
her
shins
for
that
.
Instead
she
asked
pointedly
,
offensively
,
if
Magnet
was
any
balder
.
"
He
's
not
really
bald
,
"
said
Daffy
unruffled
,
and
went
on
to
discuss
the
advisability
of
a
second
motor
car
—
purely
for
town
use
.
"
I
tell
him
I
do
n't
want
it
,
"
said
Daffy
,
"
but
he
's
frightfully
keen
upon
getting
one
.
"
When
Daffy
had
at
last
gone
Marjorie
went
back
into
Trafford
's
study
and
stood
on
the
hearthrug
regarding
its
appointments
,
with
something
of
the
air
of
one
who
awakens
from
a
dream
.
She
had
developed
a
new
,
appalling
thought
.
Was
Daffy
really
a
better
wife
than
herself
?
It
was
dawning
upon
Marjorie
that
she
had
n't
been
doing
the
right
thing
by
her
husband
,
and
she
was
as
surprised
as
if
it
had
been
suddenly
brought
home
to
her
that
she
was
neglecting
Margharita
.
This
was
her
husband
's
study
—
and
it
showed
just
a
little
dusty
in
the
afternoon
sunshine
,
and
everything
about
it
denied
the
pretensions
of
serene
sustained
work
that
she
had
always
made
to
herself
.
Here
were
the
crumpled
galley
proofs
of
his
science
notes
;
here
were
unanswered
letters
.
There
,
she
dare
not
touch
them
,
were
computations
,
under
a
glass
paper-weight
.
What
did
they
amount
to
now
?
On
the
table
under
the
window
were
back
numbers
of
the
Scientific
Bulletin
in
a
rather
untidy
pile
,
and
on
the
footstool
by
the
arm-chair
she
had
been
accustomed
to
sit
at
his
feet
when
he
stayed
at
home
to
work
,
and
look
into
the
fire
,
and
watch
him
furtively
,
and
sometimes
give
way
to
an
overmastering
tenderness
and
make
love
to
him
.
The
thought
of
Magnet
,
pampered
,
fenced
around
,
revered
in
his
industrious
tiresome
repetitions
,
variations
,
dramatizations
and
so
forth
of
the
half-dozen
dry
little
old
jokes
which
the
British
public
accepted
as
his
characteristic
offering
and
rewarded
him
for
so
highly
,
contrasted
vividly
with
her
new
realization
of
Trafford
's
thankless
work
and
worried
face
.
And
she
loved
him
,
she
loved
him
—
so
.
She
told
herself
in
the
presence
of
all
these
facts
,
and
without
a
shadow
of
doubt
in
her
mind
that
all
she
wanted
in
the
world
was
to
make
him
happy
.
It
occurred
to
her
as
a
rather
drastic
means
to
this
end
that
she
might
commit
suicide
.
She
had
already
gone
some
way
in
the
composition
of
a
touching
letter
of
farewell
to
him
,
containing
a
luminous
analysis
of
her
own
defects
,
before
her
common-sense
swept
away
this
imaginative
exercise
.
Meanwhile
,
as
if
it
had
been
working
at
her
problem
all
the
time
that
this
exciting
farewell
epistle
had
occupied
the
foreground
of
her
thoughts
,
her
natural
lucidity
emerged
with
the
manifest
conclusion
that
she
had
to
alter
her
way
of
living
.
She
had
been
extraordinarily
regardless
of
him
,
she
only
began
to
see
that
,
and
now
she
had
to
take
up
the
problem
of
his
necessities
.
Her
self-examination
now
that
it
had
begun
was
thorough
.
She
had
always
told
herself
before
that
she
had
made
a
most
wonderful
and
beautiful
little
home
for
him
.
But
had
she
made
it
for
him
?
Had
he
as
a
matter
of
fact
ever
wanted
it
,
except
that
he
was
glad
to
have
it
through
her
?
No
doubt
it
had
given
him
delight
and
happiness
,
it
had
been
a
marvellous
little
casket
of
love
for
them
,
but
how
far
did
that
outweigh
the
burthen
and
limitation
it
had
imposed
upon
him
?
She
had
always
assumed
he
was
beyond
measure
grateful
to
her
for
his
home
,
in
spite
of
all
her
bills
,
but
was
he
?
It
was
like
sticking
a
knife
into
herself
to
ask
that
,
but
she
was
now
in
a
phase
heroic
enough
for
the
task
—
was
he
?
She
had
always
seen
herself
as
the
giver
of
bounties
;
greatest
bounty
of
all
was
Margharita
.
She
had
faced
pains
and
terrors
and
the
shadow
of
death
to
give
him
Margharita
.
Now
with
Daffy
's
illuminating
conversation
in
her
mind
,
she
could
turn
the
light
upon
a
haunting
doubt
that
had
been
lurking
in
the
darkness
for
a
long
time
.
Had
he
really
so
greatly
wanted
Margharita
?
Had
she
ever
troubled
to
get
to
the
bottom
of
that
before
?
Had
n't
she
as
a
matter
of
fact
wanted
Margharita
ten
thousand
times
more
than
he
had
done
?
Had
n't
she
in
effect
imposed
Margharita
upon
him
,
as
she
had
imposed
her
distinctive
and
delightful
home
upon
him
,
regardlessly
,
because
these
things
were
the
natural
and
legitimate
developments
of
herself
?
These
things
were
not
his
ends
.
Had
she
hitherto
ever
really
cared
what
his
ends
might
be
?
A
phrase
she
had
heard
abundantly
enough
in
current
feminist
discussion
recurred
to
her
mind
,
"
the
economic
dependence
of
women
,
"
and
now
for
the
first
time
it
was
charged
with
meaning
.
She
had
imposed
these
things
upon
him
not
because
she
loved
him
,
but
because
these
things
that
were
the
expansions
and
consequences
of
her
love
for
him
were
only
obtainable
through
him
.
A
woman
gives
herself
to
a
man
out
of
love
,
and
remains
clinging
parasitically
to
him
out
of
necessity
.
Was
there
no
way
of
evading
that
necessity
?
For
a
time
she
entertained
dreams
of
marvellous
social
reconstructions
.
Suppose
the
community
kept
all
its
women
,
suppose
all
property
in
homes
and
furnishings
and
children
vested
in
them
!
That
was
Marjorie
's
version
of
that
idea
of
the
Endowment
of
Womanhood
which
has
been
creeping
into
contemporary
thought
during
the
last
two
decades
.
Then
every
woman
would
be
a
Princess
to
the
man
she
loved
...
.
He
became
more
definitely
personal
.
Suppose
she
herself
was
rich
,
then
she
could
play
the
Princess
to
Trafford
;
she
could
have
him
free
,
unencumbered
,
happy
and
her
lover
!
Then
,
indeed
,
her
gifts
would
be
gifts
,
and
all
her
instincts
and
motives
would
but
crown
his
unhampered
life
!
She
could
not
go
on
from
that
idea
,
she
lapsed
into
a
golden
reverie
,
from
which
she
was
roused
by
the
clock
striking
five
.
In
half
an
hour
perhaps
Trafford
would
be
home
again
.
She
could
at
least
be
so
much
of
a
princess
as
to
make
his
home
sweet
for
his
home-coming
.
There
should
be
tea
in
here
,
where
callers
did
not
trouble
.
She
glanced
at
an
empty
copper
vase
.
It
ached
.
There
was
no
light
in
the
room
.
There
would
be
just
time
to
dash
out
into
High
Street
and
buy
some
flowers
for
it
before
he
came
...
.
Spring
and
a
renewed
and
deepened
love
for
her
husband
were
in
Marjorie
's
blood
.
Her
mind
worked
rapidly
during
the
next
few
days
,
and
presently
she
found
herself
clearly
decided
upon
her
course
of
action
.
She
had
to
pull
herself
together
and
help
him
,
and
if
that
meant
a
Spartan
and
strenuous
way
of
living
,
then
manifestly
she
must
be
Spartan
and
strenuous
.
She
must
put
an
end
once
for
all
to
her
recurrent
domestic
deficits
,
and
since
this
could
only
be
done
by
getting
rid
of
May
,
she
must
get
rid
of
May
and
mind
the
child
herself
.
(
Every
day
,
thank
Heaven
!
Margharita
became
more
intelligent
,
more
manageable
,
and
more
interesting
.
)
Then
she
must
also
make
a
far
more
systematic
and
thorough
study
of
domestic
economy
than
she
had
hitherto
done
,
and
run
the
shopping
and
housekeeping
on
severer
lines
;
she
bought
fruit
carelessly
,
they
had
far
too
many
joints
;
she
never
seemed
able
to
restrain
herself
when
it
came
to
flowers
.
And
in
the
evenings
,
which
would
necessarily
be
very
frequently
lonely
evenings
if
Trafford
's
researches
were
to
go
on
,
she
would
typewrite
,
and
either
acquire
great
speed
at
that
or
learn
shorthand
,
and
so
save
Trafford
's
present
expenditure
on
a
typist
.
That
unfortunately
would
mean
buying
a
typewriter
.
She
found
one
afternoon
in
a
twopenny
book-box
,
with
which
she
was
trying
to
allay
her
craving
for
purchases
,
a
tattered
little
pamphlet
entitled
:
"
Proposals
for
the
Establishment
of
an
Order
of
Samurai
,
"
which
fell
in
very
exactly
with
her
mood
.
The
title
"
dated
"
;
it
carried
her
mind
back
to
her
middle
girlhood
and
the
defeats
of
Kuropatki
and
the
futile
earnest
phase
in
English
thought
which
followed
the
Boer
War
.
The
order
was
to
be
a
sort
of
self-appointed
nobility
serving
the
world
.
It
shone
with
the
light
of
a
generous
dawn
,
but
cast
,
I
fear
,
the
shadow
of
the
prig
.
Its
end
was
the
Agenda
Club
...
.
She
read
and
ceased
to
read
—
and
dreamt
.
The
project
unfolded
the
picture
of
a
new
method
of
conduct
to
her
,
austere
,
yet
picturesque
and
richly
noble
.
These
Samurai
,
it
was
intimated
,
were
to
lead
lives
of
hard
discipline
and
high
effort
,
under
self-imposed
rule
and
restraint
.
They
were
to
stand
a
little
apart
from
the
excitements
and
temptations
of
everyday
life
,
to
eat
sparingly
,
drink
water
,
resort
greatly
to
self-criticism
and
self-examination
,
and
harden
their
spirits
by
severe
and
dangerous
exercises
.
They
were
to
dress
simply
,
work
hard
,
and
be
the
conscious
and
deliberate
salt
of
the
world
.
They
were
to
walk
among
mountains
.
Incidentally
,
great
power
was
to
be
given
them
.
Such
systematic
effort
and
self-control
as
this
,
seemed
to
Marjorie
to
give
just
all
she
was
n't
and
needed
to
be
,
to
save
her
life
and
Trafford
's
from
a
common
disaster
...
.
It
particularly
appealed
to
her
that
they
were
to
walk
among
mountains
...
.
But
it
is
hard
to
make
a
change
in
the
colour
of
one
's
life
amidst
the
routine
one
has
already
established
about
oneself
,
in
the
house
that
is
grooved
by
one
's
weaknesses
,
amidst
hangings
and
ornaments
living
and
breathing
with
the
life
of
an
antagonistic
and
yet
insidiously
congenial
ideal
.
A
great
desire
came
upon
Marjorie
to
go
away
with
Trafford
for
a
time
,
out
of
their
everyday
life
into
strange
and
cool
and
spacious
surroundings
.
She
wanted
to
leave
London
and
its
shops
,
and
the
home
and
the
movements
and
the
callers
and
rivalries
,
and
even
dimpled
little
Margharita
's
insistent
claims
,
and
get
free
and
think
.
It
was
the
first
invasion
of
their
lives
by
this
conception
,
a
conception
that
was
ever
afterwards
to
leave
them
altogether
,
of
retreat
and
reconstruction
.
She
knelt
upon
the
white
sheepskin
hearthrug
at
Trafford
's
feet
one
night
,
and
told
him
of
her
desire
.
He
,
too
,
was
tired
of
his
work
and
his
vexations
,
and
ripe
for
this
suggestion
of
an
altered
life
.
The
Easter
holiday
was
approaching
,
and
nearly
twenty
unencumbered
days
.
Mrs.
Trafford
,
they
knew
,
would
come
into
the
house
,
meanwhile
,
and
care
for
Margharita
.
They
would
go
away
somewhere
together
and
walk
,
no
luggage
but
a
couple
of
knapsacks
,
no
hotel
but
some
homely
village
inn
.
They
would
be
in
the
air
all
day
,
until
they
were
saturated
with
sweet
air
and
spirit
of
clean
restraints
.
They
would
plan
out
their
new
rule
,
concentrate
their
aims
.
"
And
I
could
think
,
"
said
Trafford
,
"
of
this
new
work
I
ca
n't
begin
here
.
I
might
make
some
notes
.
"
Presently
came
the
question
of
where
the
great
walk
should
be
.
Manifestly
,
it
must
be
among
mountains
,
manifestly
,
and
Marjorie
's
eye
saw
those
mountains
with
snow
upon
their
summits
and
cold
glaciers
on
their
flanks
.
Could
they
get
to
Switzerland
?
If
they
travelled
second
class
throughout
,
and
took
the
cheaper
way
,
as
Samurai
should
?
...
That
holiday
seemed
to
Marjorie
as
if
they
had
found
a
lost
and
forgotten
piece
of
honeymoon
.
She
had
that
same
sense
of
fresh
beginnings
that
had
made
their
first
walk
in
Italian
Switzerland
so
unforgettable
.
She
was
filled
with
the
happiness
of
recovering
Trafford
when
he
had
seemed
to
be
slipping
from
her
.
All
day
they
talked
of
their
outlook
,
and
how
they
might
economise
away
the
need
of
his
extra
work
,
and
so
release
him
for
his
search
again
.
For
the
first
time
he
talked
of
his
work
to
her
,
and
gave
her
some
intimation
of
its
scope
and
quality
.
He
became
enthusiastic
with
the
sudden
invention
of
experimental
devices
,
so
that
it
seemed
to
her
almost
worth
while
if
instead
of
going
on
they
bolted
back
,
he
to
his
laboratory
and
she
to
her
nursery
,
and
so
at
once
inaugurated
the
new
régime
.
But
they
went
on
,
to
finish
the
holiday
out
.
And
the
delight
of
being
together
again
with
unfettered
hours
of
association
!
They
rediscovered
each
other
,
the
same
—
and
a
little
changed
.
If
their
emotions
were
less
bright
and
intense
,
their
interest
was
far
wider
and
deeper
.
The
season
was
too
early
for
high
passes
,
and
the
weather
was
changeable
.
They
started
from
Fribourg
and
walked
to
Thun
and
then
back
to
Bulle
,
and
so
to
Bultigen
,
Saanen
,
Montbovon
and
the
Lake
of
Geneva
.
They
had
rain
several
days
,
the
sweet
,
soft
,
windless
mountain
rain
that
seemed
so
tolerable
to
those
who
are
accustomed
to
the
hard
and
driven
downpours
of
England
,
and
in
places
they
found
mud
and
receding
snow
;
the
inns
were
at
their
homeliest
,
and
none
the
worse
for
that
,
and
there
were
days
of
spring
sunshine
when
a
multitude
of
minute
and
delightful
flowers
came
out
as
it
seemed
to
meet
them
—
it
was
impossible
to
suppose
so
great
a
concourse
universal
—
and
spread
in
a
scented
carpet
before
their
straying
feet
.
The
fruit
trees
in
the
valleys
were
powdered
with
blossom
,
and
the
new
grass
seemed
rather
green-tinted
sunlight
than
merely
green
.
And
they
walked
with
a
sort
of
stout
leisureliness
,
knapsacks
well-hung
and
cloaks
about
them
,
with
their
faces
fresh
and
bright
under
the
bracing
weather
,
and
their
lungs
deep
charged
with
mountain
air
,
talking
of
the
new
austerer
life
that
was
now
beginning
.
With
great
snow-capped
mountains
in
the
background
,
streaming
precipices
overhead
,
and
a
sward
of
flowers
to
go
upon
,
that
strenuous
prospect
was
altogether
delightful
.
They
went
as
it
pleased
them
,
making
detours
into
valleys
,
coming
back
upon
their
steps
.
The
interludes
of
hot
,
bright
April
sunshine
made
them
indolent
,
and
they
would
loiter
and
halt
where
some
rock
or
wall
invited
,
and
sit
basking
like
happy
,
animals
,
talking
very
little
,
for
long
hours
together
.
Trafford
seemed
to
have
forgotten
all
the
strain
and
disappointment
of
the
past
two
years
,
to
be
amazed
but
in
no
wise
incredulous
at
this
enormous
change
in
her
and
in
their
outlook
;
it
filled
her
with
a
passion
of
pride
and
high
resolve
to
think
that
so
she
could
recover
and
uplift
him
.
He
was
now
very
deeply
in
love
with
her
again
.
He
talked
indeed
of
his
research
,
but
so
that
it
might
interest
her
,
and
when
he
thought
alone
,
he
thought
,
not
of
it
,
but
of
her
,
making
again
the
old
discoveries
,
his
intense
delight
in
the
quality
of
her
voice
,
his
joy
in
a
certain
indescribable
gallantry
in
her
bearing
.
He
pitied
all
men
whose
wives
could
not
carry
themselves
,
and
whose
voices
failed
and
broke
under
the
things
they
had
to
say
.
And
then
again
there
was
the
way
she
moved
her
arms
,
the
way
her
hands
took
hold
of
things
,
the
alert
lucidity
of
her
eyes
,
and
then
that
faint
,
soft
shadow
of
a
smile
upon
her
lips
when
she
walked
thinking
or
observant
,
all
unaware
that
he
was
watching
her
.
It
rained
in
the
morning
of
their
eleventh
day
and
then
gave
way
to
warmth
and
sunshine
,
so
that
they
arrived
at
Les
Avants
in
the
afternoon
a
little
muddy
and
rather
hot
.
At
one
of
the
tables
under
the
trees
outside
the
Grand
Hotel
was
a
small
group
of
people
dressed
in
the
remarkable
and
imposing
costume
which
still
in
those
days
distinguished
the
motorist
.
They
turned
from
their
tea
to
a
more
or
less
frank
inspection
of
the
Traffords
,
and
suddenly
broke
out
into
cries
of
recognition
and
welcome
.
Solomonson
—
for
the
most
part
brown
leather
—
emerged
with
extended
hands
,
and
behind
him
,
nestling
in
the
midst
of
immense
and
costly
furs
,
appeared
the
kindly
salience
and
brightness
of
his
Lady
's
face
.
"
Good
luck
!
"
cried
Solomonson
.
"
Good
luck
!
Come
and
have
tea
with
us
!
But
this
is
a
happy
encounter
!
"
"
We
're
dirty
—
but
so
healthy
!
"
cried
Marjorie
,
saluting
Lady
Solomonson
.
"
You
look
,
oh
!
—
splendidly
well
,
"
that
Lady
responded
.
"
We
've
been
walking
.
"
"
With
just
that
knapsack
!
"
"
It
's
been
glorious
.
"
"
But
the
courage
!
"
said
Lady
Solomonson
,
and
did
not
add
,
"
the
tragic
hardship
!
"
though
her
tone
conveyed
it
.
She
had
all
the
unquestioning
belief
of
her
race
in
the
sanity
of
comfort
.
She
had
ingrained
in
her
the
most
definite
ideas
of
man
's
position
and
woman
's
,
and
that
any
one
,
man
or
woman
,
should
walk
in
mud
except
under
dire
necessity
,
was
outside
the
range
of
her
philosophy
.
She
thought
Marjorie
's
thick
boots
and
short
skirts
quite
the
most
appalling
feminine
costume
she
had
ever
seen
.
She
saw
only
a
ruined
complexion
and
damaged
womanhood
in
Marjorie
's
rain-washed
,
sun-bit
cheek
.
Her
benevolent
heart
rebelled
at
the
spectacle
.
It
was
dreadful
,
she
thought
,
that
nice
young
people
like
the
Traffords
should
have
come
to
this
.
The
rest
of
the
party
were
now
informally
introduced
.
They
were
all
very
splendid
and
disconcertingly
free
from
mud
.
One
was
Christabel
Morrison
,
the
actress
,
a
graceful
figure
in
a
green
baize
coat
and
brown
fur
,
who
looked
ever
so
much
more
charming
than
her
innumerable
postcards
and
illustrated-paper
portraits
would
have
led
one
to
expect
;
her
neighbour
was
Solomonson
's
cousin
Lee
,
the
organizer
of
the
Theatre
Syndicate
,
a
brown-eyed
,
attenuated
,
quick-minded
little
man
with
an
accent
that
struck
Trafford
as
being
on
the
whole
rather
Dutch
,
and
the
third
lady
was
Lady
Solomonson
's
sister
,
Mrs.
Lee
.
It
appeared
they
were
all
staying
at
Lee
's
villa
above
Vevey
,
part
of
an
amusing
assembly
of
people
who
were
either
vividly
rich
or
even
more
vividly
clever
,
an
accumulation
which
the
Traffords
in
the
course
of
the
next
twenty
minutes
were
three
times
invited
,
with
an
increasing
appreciation
and
earnestness
,
to
join
.
From
the
first
our
two
young
people
were
not
indisposed
to
do
so
.
For
eleven
days
they
had
maintained
their
duologue
at
the
very
highest
level
;
seven
days
remained
to
them
before
they
must
go
back
to
begin
the
hard
new
life
in
England
,
and
there
was
something
very
attractive
—
they
did
not
for
a
moment
seek
to
discover
the
elements
of
that
attractiveness
—
in
this
proposal
of
five
or
six
days
of
luxurious
indolence
above
the
lake
,
a
sort
of
farewell
to
the
worldly
side
of
worldly
things
,
before
they
set
forth
upon
the
high
and
narrow
path
they
had
resolved
to
tread
.
"
But
we
've
got
no
clothes
,
"
cried
Marjorie
,
"
no
clothes
at
all
!
We
've
these
hobnail
boots
and
a
pair
each
of
heelless
slippers
.
"
"
My
dear
!
"
cried
Lady
Solomonson
in
real
distress
,
and
as
much
aside
as
circumstances
permitted
,
"
my
dear
!
My
sister
can
manage
all
that
!
"
Her
voice
fell
to
earnest
undertones
.
"
We
can
really
manage
all
that
.
The
house
is
packed
with
things
.
We
'll
come
to
dinner
in
fancy
dress
.
And
Scott
,
my
maid
,
is
so
clever
.
"
"
But
really
!
"
said
Marjorie
.
"
My
dear
!
"
said
Lady
Solomonson
.
"
Everything
.
"
And
she
changed
places
with
Lee
in
order
to
be
perfectly
confidential
and
explicit
.
"
Rachel
!
"
she
cried
,
and
summoned
her
sister
for
confirmatory
assurances
...
.
"
But
my
husband
!
"
Marjorie
became
audible
.
"
We
've
long
Persian
robes
,
"
said
Mrs.
Lee
,
with
a
glance
of
undisguised
appraisement
.
"
He
'll
be
splendid
.
He
'll
look
like
a
Soldan
...
.
"
The
rest
of
the
company
forced
a
hectic
conversation
in
order
not
to
seem
to
listen
,
and
presently
Lady
Solomonson
and
her
sister
were
triumphant
.
They
packed
Marjorie
into
the
motor
car
,
and
Trafford
and
Solomonson
returned
to
Vevey
by
train
and
thence
up
to
the
villa
by
a
hired
automobile
.
They
did
n't
go
outside
the
magic
confines
of
the
Lees
'
villa
for
three
days
,
and
when
they
did
they
were
still
surrounded
by
their
host
's
service
and
possessions
;
they
made
an
excursion
to
Chillon
in
his
motor-cars
,
and
went
in
his
motor-boat
to
lunch
with
the
Maynards
in
their
lake-side
villa
close
to
Geneva
.
During
all
that
time
they
seemed
lifted
off
the
common
earth
into
a
world
of
fine
fabrics
,
agreeable
sounds
,
noiseless
unlimited
service
,
and
ample
untroubled
living
.
It
had
an
effect
of
enchantment
,
and
the
long
healthy
arduous
journey
thither
seemed
a
tale
of
incredible
effort
amidst
these
sunny
excesses
.
The
weather
had
the
whim
to
be
serenely
fine
,
sunshine
like
summer
and
the
bluest
of
skies
shone
above
the
white
wall
and
the
ilex
thickets
and
cypresses
that
bounded
them
in
from
the
great
world
of
crowded
homes
and
sous
and
small
necessities
.
And
through
the
texture
of
it
all
for
Trafford
ran
a
thread
of
curious
new
suggestion
.
An
intermittent
discussion
of
economics
and
socialism
was
going
on
between
himself
and
Solomonson
and
an
agreeable
little
stammering
man
in
brown
named
Minter
,
who
walked
up
in
the
afternoon
from
Vevey
,
—
he
professed
to
be
writing
a
novel
—
during
the
earlier
half
of
the
day
.
Minter
displayed
the
keenest
appreciation
of
everything
in
his
entertainment
,
and
blinked
cheerfully
and
expressed
opinions
of
the
extremest
socialistic
and
anarchistic
flavour
to
an
accompaniment
of
grateful
self-indulgence
.
"
Your
port-wine
is
wonderful
,
Lee
,
"
he
would
say
,
sipping
it
.
"
A
terrible
retribution
will
fall
upon
you
some
day
for
all
this
.
"
The
villa
had
been
designed
by
Lee
to
please
his
wife
,
and
if
it
was
neither
very
beautiful
nor
very
dignified
,
it
was
at
any
rate
very
pretty
and
amusing
.
It
might
have
been
built
by
a
Parisian
dressmaker
—
in
the
châteauesque
style
.
It
was
of
greyish-white
stone
,
with
a
roof
of
tiles
.
It
had
little
balconies
and
acutely
roofed
turrets
,
and
almost
burlesque
buttresses
,
pierced
by
doors
and
gates
;
and
sun-trap
loggias
,
as
pleasantly
casual
as
the
bows
and
embroideries
of
a
woman
's
dress
;
and
its
central
hall
,
with
an
impluvium
that
had
nothing
to
do
with
rain-water
,
and
its
dining-room
,
to
which
one
ascended
from
this
hall
between
pillars
up
five
broad
steps
,
were
entirely
irrelevant
to
all
its
exterior
features
.
Unobtrusive
men-servants
in
grey
with
scarlet
facings
hovered
serviceably
.
From
the
little
terrace
,
all
set
with
orange-trees
in
tubs
,
one
could
see
,
through
the
branches
and
stems
of
evergreens
and
over
a
foreground
of
budding
,
starting
vineyard
,
the
clustering
roofs
of
Vevey
below
,
an
agglomeration
veiled
ever
so
thinly
in
the
morning
by
a
cobweb
of
wood
smoke
,
against
the
blue
background
of
lake
with
its
winged
sailing-boats
,
and
sombre
Alpine
distances
.
Minter
made
it
all
significant
by
a
wave
of
the
hand
.
"
All
this
,
"
he
said
,
and
of
the
crowded
work-a-day
life
below
,
"
all
that
.
"
"
All
this
,
"
with
its
rich
litter
of
stuffs
and
ornaments
,
its
fine
profusion
,
its
delicacies
of
flower
and
food
and
furniture
,
its
frequent
inconsecutive
pleasures
,
its
noiseless
,
ready
service
,
was
remarkably
novel
and
yet
remarkably
familiar
to
Trafford
.
For
a
time
he
could
not
understand
this
undertone
of
familiarity
,
and
then
a
sunlit
group
of
hangings
in
one
of
the
small
rooms
that
looked
out
upon
the
lake
took
his
mind
back
to
his
own
dining-room
,
and
the
little
inadequate
,
but
decidedly
good
,
Bokhara
embroidery
that
dominated
it
like
a
flag
,
that
lit
it
,
and
now
lit
his
understanding
,
like
a
confessed
desire
.
Of
course
,
Mrs.
Lee
—
happy
woman
!
—
was
doing
just
everything
that
Marjorie
would
have
loved
to
do
.
Marjorie
had
never
confessed
as
much
,
perhaps
she
had
never
understood
as
much
,
but
now
in
the
presence
of
Mrs.
Lee
's
æsthetic
exuberances
,
Trafford
at
least
understood
.
He
surveyed
the
little
room
,
whose
harmonies
he
had
at
first
simply
taken
for
granted
,
noted
the
lustre-ware
that
answered
to
the
gleaming
Persian
tiles
,
the
inspiration
of
a
metallic
thread
in
the
hangings
,
and
the
exquisite
choice
of
the
deadened
paint
upon
the
woodwork
,
and
realized
for
the
first
time
how
little
aimless
extravagance
can
be
,
and
all
the
timid
,
obstinately
insurgent
artistry
that
troubled
his
wife
.
He
stepped
through
the
open
window
into
a
little
loggia
,
and
stared
unseeingly
over
glittering
,
dark-green
leaves
to
the
mysteries
of
distance
in
the
great
masses
above
St.
Gingolph
,
and
it
seemed
for
the
first
time
that
perhaps
in
his
thoughts
he
had
done
his
wife
a
wrong
.
He
had
judged
her
fickle
,
impulsive
,
erratic
,
perhaps
merely
because
her
mind
followed
a
different
process
from
his
,
because
while
he
went
upon
the
lines
of
constructive
truth
,
her
guide
was
a
more
immediate
and
instinctive
sense
of
beauty
.
He
was
very
much
alive
to
her
now
,
and
deeply
in
love
with
her
.
He
had
reached
Les
Avants
with
all
his
sense
of
their
discordance
clean
washed
and
walked
out
of
his
mind
,
by
rain
and
sun
and
a
flow
of
high
resolutions
,
and
the
brotherly
swing
of
their
strides
together
.
They
had
come
to
the
Lee
's
villa
,
mud-splashed
,
air-sweet
comrades
,
all
unaware
of
the
subtle
differences
of
atmosphere
they
had
to
encounter
.
They
had
no
suspicion
that
it
was
only
about
half
of
each
other
that
had
fraternized
.
Now
here
they
were
in
a
company
that
was
not
only
altogether
alien
to
their
former
mood
,
but
extremely
interesting
and
exciting
and
closely
akin
to
the
latent
factors
in
Marjorie
's
composition
.
Their
hostess
and
her
sister
had
the
keen
,
quick
æsthetic
sensibilities
of
their
race
,
with
all
that
freedom
of
reading
and
enfranchisement
of
mind
which
is
the
lot
of
the
Western
women
.
Lee
had
an
immense
indulgent
affection
for
his
wife
,
he
regarded
her
arrangements
and
exploits
with
an
admiration
that
was
almost
American
.
And
Mrs.
Lee
's
imagination
had
run
loose
in
pursuit
of
beautiful
and
remarkable
people
and
splendours
rather
than
harmonies
of
line
and
colour
.
Lee
,
like
Solomonson
,
had
that
inexplicable
alchemy
of
mind
which
distils
gold
from
the
commerce
of
the
world
(
"
All
this
,
"
said
Minter
to
Trafford
,
"
is
an
exhalation
from
all
that
"
)
;
he
accumulated
wealth
as
one
grows
a
beard
,
and
found
his
interest
in
his
uxorious
satisfactions
,
and
so
Mrs.
Lee
,
with
her
bright
watchful
eyes
,
quick
impulsive
movements
and
instinctive
command
had
the
utmost
freedom
to
realize
her
ideals
.
In
the
world
at
large
Lee
and
Solomonson
seemed
both
a
little
short
and
a
little
stout
,
and
a
little
too
black
and
bright
for
their
entirely
conventional
clothing
,
but
for
the
dinner
and
evening
of
the
villa
they
were
now
,
out
of
consideration
for
Trafford
,
at
their
ease
,
and
far
more
dignified
in
Oriental
robes
.
Trafford
was
accommodated
with
a
long
,
black
,
delicately
embroidered
garment
that
reached
to
his
feet
,
and
suited
something
upstanding
and
fine
in
his
bearing
;
Minter
,
who
had
stayed
on
from
an
afternoon
call
,
was
gorgeous
in
Chinese
embroidery
.
The
rest
of
the
men
clung
boldly
or
bashfully
to
evening
dress
...
.
On
the
evening
of
his
arrival
Trafford
,
bathed
and
robed
,
found
the
rest
of
the
men
assembling
about
an
open
wood
fire
in
the
smaller
hall
at
the
foot
of
the
main
staircase
.
Lee
was
still
upstairs
,
and
Solomonson
,
with
a
new
grace
of
gesture
begotten
by
his
costume
,
made
the
necessary
introductions
;
a
little
man
with
fine-cut
features
and
a
Galway
accent
was
Rex
the
playwright
;
a
tall
,
grey-haired
,
clean-shaven
man
was
Bright
from
the
New
York
Central
Museum
;
and
a
bearded
giant
with
a
roof
of
red
hair
and
a
remote
eye
was
Radlett
Barns
,
the
great
portrait-painter
,
who
consents
to
paint
your
portrait
for
posterity
as
the
King
confers
a
knighthood
.
These
were
presently
joined
by
Lee
and
Pacey
,
the
blond-haired
musician
,
and
Mottersham
,
whose
patents
and
inventions
control
electric
lighting
and
heating
all
over
the
world
,
and
then
,
with
the
men
duly
gathered
and
expectant
,
the
women
came
down
the
wide
staircase
.
The
staircase
had
been
planned
and
lit
for
these
effects
,
and
Mrs.
Lee
meant
to
make
the
most
of
her
new
discovery
.
Her
voice
could
be
heard
in
the
unseen
corridor
above
arranging
the
descent
:
"
You
go
first
,
dear
.
Will
you
go
with
Christabel
?
"
The
conversation
about
the
fire
checked
and
ceased
with
the
sound
of
voices
above
and
the
faint
rustle
of
skirts
.
Then
came
Christabel
Morrison
,
her
slender
grace
beautifully
contrasted
with
the
fuller
beauties
of
that
great
lady
of
the
stage
,
Marion
Rufus
.
Lady
Solomonson
descended
confidently
in
a
group
of
three
,
with
Lady
Mottersham
and
sharp-tongued
little
Mrs.
Rex
,
all
very
rich
and
splendid
.
After
a
brief
interval
their
hostess
preceded
Marjorie
,
and
was
so
much
of
an
artist
that
she
had
dressed
herself
merely
as
a
foil
to
this
new
creation
.
She
wore
black
and
scarlet
,
that
made
the
white
face
and
bright
eyes
under
her
sombre
hair
seem
the
face
of
an
inspiring
spirit
.
A
step
behind
her
and
to
the
right
of
her
came
Marjorie
,
tall
and
wonderful
,
as
if
she
were
the
queen
of
earth
and
sunshine
,
swathed
barbarically
in
gold
and
ruddy
brown
,
and
with
her
abundant
hair
bound
back
by
a
fillet
of
bloodstones
and
gold
.
Radlett
Barns
exclaimed
at
the
sight
of
her
.
She
was
full
of
the
manifest
consciousness
of
dignity
as
she
descended
,
quite
conscious
and
quite
unembarrassed
;
two
borrowed
golden
circlets
glittered
on
her
shining
arm
,
and
a
thin
chain
of
gold
and
garnets
broke
the
contrast
of
the
warm
,
sun-touched
neck
above
,
with
the
unsullied
skin
below
.
She
sought
and
met
her
husband
's
astonishment
with
the
faintest
,
remotest
of
smiles
.
It
seemed
to
him
that
never
before
had
he
appreciated
her
beauty
.
His
daily
companion
had
become
this
splendour
in
the
sky
.
She
came
close
by
him
with
hand
extended
to
greet
Sir
Philip
Mottersham
.
He
was
sensible
of
the
glow
of
her
,
as
it
were
of
a
scented
aura
about
her
.
He
had
a
first
full
intimation
of
the
cult
and
worship
of
woman
and
the
magnificence
of
women
,
old
as
the
Mediterranean
and
its
goddesses
,
and
altogether
novel
to
his
mind
...
.
Christabel
Morrison
found
him
a
pleasant
but
not
very
entertaining
or
exciting
neighbor
at
the
dinner-table
,
and
was
relieved
when
the
time
came
for
her
to
turn
an
ear
to
the
artistic
compliments
of
Radlett
Barns
.
But
Trafford
was
too
interested
and
amused
by
the
general
effect
of
the
dinner
to
devote
himself
to
the
rather
heavy
business
of
really
exhilarating
Christabel
.
He
did
n't
give
his
mind
to
her
.
He
found
the
transformation
of
Sir
Rupert
into
a
turbanned
Oriental
who
might
have
come
out
of
a
picture
by
Carpaccio
,
gently
stimulating
and
altogether
delightful
.
His
attention
returned
again
and
again
to
that
genial
swarthiness
.
Mrs.
Lee
on
his
left
lived
in
her
eyes
,
and
did
n't
so
much
talk
to
him
as
rattle
her
mind
at
him
almost
absent-mindedly
,
as
one
might
dangle
keys
at
a
baby
while
one
talked
to
its
mother
.
Yet
it
was
evident
she
liked
the
look
of
him
.
Her
glance
went
from
his
face
to
his
robe
,
and
up
and
down
the
table
,
at
the
bright
dresses
,
the
shining
arms
,
the
glass
and
light
and
silver
.
She
asked
him
to
tell
her
just
where
he
had
tramped
and
just
what
he
had
seen
,
and
he
had
scarcely
begun
answering
her
question
before
her
thoughts
flew
off
to
three
trophies
of
china
and
silver
,
struggling
groups
of
china
boys
bearing
up
great
silver
shells
of
fruit
and
flowers
that
stood
down
the
centre
of
the
table
.
"
What
do
you
think
of
my
chubby
boys
?
"
she
asked
.
"
They
're
German
work
.
They
came
from
a
show
at
Düsseldorf
last
week
.
Ben
saw
I
liked
them
,
and
sent
back
for
them
secretly
,
and
here
they
,
are
!
I
thought
they
might
be
too
colourless
.
But
are
they
?
"
"
No
,
"
said
Trafford
,
"
they
're
just
cool
.
Under
that
glow
of
fruit
.
Is
this
salt-cellar
English
cut
glass
?
"
"
Old
Dutch
,
"
said
Mrs.
Lee
.
"
Is
n't
it
jolly
?
"
She
embarked
with
a
roving
eye
upon
the
story
of
her
Dutch
glass
,
which
was
abundant
and
admirable
,
and
broke
off
abruptly
to
say
,
"
Your
wife
is
wonderful
.
"
"
Her
hair
goes
back
,
"
she
said
,
"
like
music
.
You
know
what
I
mean
—
a
sort
of
easy
rhythm
.
You
do
n't
mind
my
praising
your
wife
?
"
Trafford
said
he
did
n't
.
"
And
there
's
a
sort
of
dignity
about
her
.
All
my
life
,
Mr.
Trafford
,
I
've
wanted
to
be
tall
.
It
stopped
my
growth
.
"
She
glanced
off
at
a
tangent
.
"
Tell
me
,
Mr.
Trafford
,
"
she
asked
,
"
was
your
wife
beautiful
like
this
when
you
married
her
?
I
mean
—
of
course
she
was
a
beautiful
girl
and
adorable
and
all
that
;
but
was
n't
she
just
a
slender
thing
?
"
She
paused
,
but
if
she
had
a
habit
of
asking
disconcerting
questions
she
did
not
at
any
rate
insist
upon
answers
,
and
she
went
on
to
confess
that
she
believed
she
would
be
a
happier
woman
poor
than
rich
—
"
not
that
Ben
is
n't
all
he
should
be
"
—
but
that
then
she
would
have
been
a
fashionable
dressmaker
.
"
People
want
help
,
"
she
said
,
"
so
much
more
help
than
they
get
.
They
go
about
with
themselves
—
what
was
it
Mr.
Radlett
Barns
said
the
other
night
—
oh
!
—
like
people
leading
horses
they
dare
n't
ride
.
I
think
he
says
such
good
things
at
times
,
do
n't
you
?
So
wonderful
to
be
clever
in
two
ways
like
that
.
Just
look
now
at
your
wife
—
now
I
mean
,
that
they
've
drawn
that
peacock-coloured
curtain
behind
her
.
My
brother-in-law
has
been
telling
me
you
keep
the
most
wonderful
and
precious
secrets
locked
up
in
your
breast
,
that
you
know
how
to
make
gold
and
diamonds
and
all
sorts
of
things
.
If
I
did
,
—
I
should
make
them
.
"
She
pounced
suddenly
upon
Rex
at
her
left
with
questions
about
the
Keltic
Renascence
,
was
it
still
going
on
—
or
what
?
and
Trafford
was
at
liberty
for
a
time
to
enjoy
the
bright
effects
about
him
,
the
shadowed
profile
and
black
hair
of
Christabel
to
the
right
of
him
,
and
the
coruscating
refractions
and
reflections
of
Lady
Solomonson
across
the
white
and
silver
and
ivory
and
blossom
of
the
table
.
Then
Mrs.
Lee
dragged
him
into
a
sudden
conflict
with
Rex
,
by
saying
abruptly
—
"
Of
course
,
Mr.
Trafford
would
n't
believe
that
.
"
He
looked
perhaps
a
little
lost
.
"
I
was
telling
Mrs.
Lee
,
"
said
Rex
,
"
that
I
do
n't
believe
there
's
any
economy
of
human
toil
in
machinery
whatever
.
I
mean
that
the
machine
itself
really
embodies
all
the
toil
it
seems
to
save
,
toil
that
went
to
the
making
of
it
and
preparing
it
and
getting
coal
for
it
...
.
"
Next
morning
they
found
their
hostess
at
breakfast
in
the
dining-room
and
now
the
sun
was
streaming
through
a
high
triple
window
that
had
been
curtained
overnight
,
and
they
looked
out
through
clean
,
bright
plate-glass
upon
mountains
half-dissolved
in
a
luminous
mist
,
and
a
mist-veiled
lake
below
.
Great
stone
jars
upon
the
terrace
bore
a
blaze
of
urged
and
early
blossom
,
and
beyond
were
cypresses
.
Their
hostess
presided
at
one
of
two
round
tables
,
at
a
side
table
various
breakfast
dishes
kept
warm
over
spirit
lamps
,
and
two
men
servants
dispensed
tea
and
coffee
.
In
the
bay
of
the
window
was
a
fruit
table
,
with
piled
fruit-plates
and
finger-bowls
.
Mrs.
Lee
waved
a
welcoming
hand
,
and
drew
Marjorie
to
a
seat
beside
her
.
Rex
was
consuming
trout
and
Christabel
peaches
,
and
Solomonson
,
all
his
overnight
Orientalism
abandoned
,
was
in
outspoken
tweeds
and
quite
under
the
impression
that
he
was
interested
in
golf
.
Trafford
got
frizzled
bacon
for
Marjorie
and
himself
,
and
dropped
into
a
desultory
conversation
,
chiefly
sustained
by
Christabel
,
about
the
peculiarly
exalting
effect
of
beautiful
scenery
on
Christabel
's
mind
.
Mrs.
Lee
was
as
usual
distraught
,
and
kept
glancing
towards
the
steps
that
led
up
from
the
hall
.
Lady
Solomonson
appeared
with
a
rustle
in
a
wrapper
of
pink
Chinese
silk
.
"
I
came
down
after
all
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
lay
in
bed
weighing
rolls
and
coffee
and
relaxed
muscles
against
your
English
breakfast
downstairs
.
And
suddenly
I
remembered
your
little
sausages
!
"
She
sat
down
with
a
distribution
of
handkerchief
,
bag
,
letters
,
a
gold
fountain
pen
and
suchlike
equipments
,
and
Trafford
got
her
some
of
the
coveted
delicacies
.
Mrs.
Lee
suddenly
cried
out
,
"
Here
they
come
!
Here
they
come
!
"
and
simultaneously
the
hall
resonated
with
children
's
voices
and
the
yapping
of
a
Skye
terrier
.
Then
a
gay
little
procession
appeared
ascending
the
steps
.
First
came
a
small
but
princely
little
boy
of
three
,
with
a
ruddy
face
and
curly
black
hair
,
behind
him
was
a
slender
,
rather
awkward
girl
of
perhaps
eleven
,
and
a
sturdier
daughter
of
Israel
of
nine
.
A
nurse
in
artistic
purple
followed
,
listening
inattentively
to
some
private
whisperings
of
a
knickerbockered
young
man
of
five
,
and
then
came
another
purple-robed
nurse
against
contingencies
,
and
then
a
nurse
of
a
different
,
white-clad
,
and
more
elaborately
costumed
sort
,
carrying
a
sumptuous
baby
of
eight
or
nine
months
.
"
Ah
!
the
darlings
!
"
cried
Christabel
,
springing
up
quite
beautifully
,
and
Lady
Solomonson
echoed
the
cry
.
The
procession
broke
against
the
tables
and
split
about
the
breakfast
party
.
The
small
boy
in
petticoats
made
a
confident
rush
for
Marjorie
,
Christabel
set
herself
to
fascinate
his
elder
brother
,
the
young
woman
of
eleven
scrutinized
Trafford
with
speculative
interest
and
edged
towards
him
coyly
,
and
Mrs.
Lee
interviewed
her
youngest
born
.
The
amiable
inanities
suitable
to
the
occasion
had
scarcely
begun
before
a
violent
clapping
of
hands
announced
the
appearance
of
Lee
.
It
was
Lee
's
custom
,
Mrs.
Lee
told
Marjorie
over
her
massively
robed
baby
,
to
get
up
very
early
and
work
on
rolls
and
coffee
;
he
never
breakfasted
nor
joined
them
until
the
children
came
.
All
of
them
rushed
to
him
for
their
morning
kiss
,
and
it
seemed
to
Trafford
that
Lee
at
least
was
an
altogether
happy
creature
as
he
accepted
the
demonstrative
salutations
of
this
struggling
,
elbowing
armful
of
offspring
,
and
emerged
at
last
like
a
man
from
a
dive
,
flushed
and
ruffled
and
smiling
,
to
wish
his
adult
guests
good
morning
.
"
Come
upstairs
with
us
,
daddy
,
"
cried
the
children
,
tugging
at
him
.
"
Come
upstairs
!
"
Mrs.
Lee
ran
her
eye
about
her
table
and
rose
.
"
It
's
the
children
's
hour
,
"
she
said
to
Marjorie
.
"
You
do
n't
I
hope
,
mind
children
?
"
"
But
,
"
said
Trafford
incredulous
,
and
with
a
friendly
arm
about
his
admirer
,
"
is
this
tall
young
woman
yours
?
"
The
child
shot
him
a
glance
of
passionate
appreciation
for
this
scrap
of
flattery
.
"
We
began
young
,
"
said
Mrs.
Lee
,
with
eyes
of
uncritical
pride
for
the
ungainly
one
,
and
smiled
at
her
husband
.
"
Upstairs
,
"
cried
the
boy
of
five
and
the
girl
of
nine
.
"
Upstairs
.
"
"
May
we
come
?
"
asked
Marjorie
.
"
May
we
all
come
?
"
asked
Christabel
,
determined
to
be
in
the
movement
.
Rex
strolled
towards
the
cigars
,
with
disentanglement
obviously
in
his
mind
.
"
Do
you
really
care
?
"
asked
Mrs.
Lee
.
"
You
know
,
I
'm
so
proud
of
their
nursery
.
Would
you
care
—
—
?
Always
I
go
up
at
this
time
.
"
"
I
've
my
little
nursery
,
too
,
"
said
Marjorie
.
"
Of
course
!
"
cried
Mrs.
Lee
,
"
I
forgot
.
Of
course
;
"
and
overwhelmed
Marjorie
with
inquiries
as
she
followed
her
husband
.
Every
one
joined
the
nurseryward
procession
except
Rex
,
who
left
himself
behind
with
an
air
of
inadvertency
,
and
escaped
to
the
terrace
and
a
cigar
...
.
It
was
a
wonderful
nursery
,
a
suite
of
three
bedrooms
,
a
green
and
white
,
well-lit
schoolroom
and
a
vast
playroom
,
and
hovering
about
the
passage
Trafford
remarked
a
third
purple
nurse
and
a
very
efficient
and
serious-looking
Swiss
governess
.
The
schoolroom
and
the
nursery
displayed
a
triumph
of
judicious
shopping
and
arrangement
,
the
best
of
German
and
French
and
English
things
had
been
blended
into
a
harmony
at
once
hygienic
and
pedagogic
and
humanly
charming
.
For
once
Marjorie
had
to
admire
the
spending
of
another
woman
,
and
admit
to
herself
that
even
she
could
not
have
done
better
with
the
money
.
There
were
clever
little
desks
for
the
elder
children
to
work
at
,
adjustable
desks
scientifically
lit
so
that
they
benefited
hands
and
shoulders
and
eyes
;
there
were
artistically
coloured
and
artistically
arranged
pictures
,
and
a
little
library
held
all
the
best
of
Lang
and
Lucas
,
rare
good
things
like
"
Uncle
Lubin
,
"
Maurice
Baring
's
story
of
"
Forget-me-not
,
"
