barefact
;
he
did
not
hear
what
excuse
I
had
—
that
I
was
not
really
so
wicked
as
—
as
—
he
will
die
thinking
me
.
"
The
sob
with
which
she
ends
alarms
him
by
its
kinship
to
a
convulsion
.
"
I
do
not
know
what
to
say
to
you
,
"
he
says
,
desperately
making
a
snatch
at
her
two
hands
,
as
if
by
the
violence
of
his
grip
he
could
convey
to
her
some
little
portion
of
the
deep
compassion
that
is
swelling
up
in
his
heart
for
her
;
"
I
am
so
much
in
the
dark
.
No
,
no
,
no
!
"
with
a
return
of
that
terror
lest
this
ejaculation
should
seem
the
outcome
of
any
inquisitiveness
;
"
I
do
not
want
you
to
tell
me
anything
!
What
is
more
,
I
will
not
listen
to
you
if
you
attempt
it
;
but
what
there
is
not
the
least
manner
of
doubt
about
is
that
his
fainting
had
no
sort
of
reference
to
what
you
said
to
him
:
he
would
have
fainted
whatever
you
had
said
to
him
,
or
if
you
had
said
nothing
at
all
.
He
was
as
mad
as
a
hatter
when
he
went
in
to
you
.
It
is
all
part
of
the
same
thing
—
over-fatigue
,
sunstroke
.
But
he
is
not
going
to
die
"
—
with
a
hurried
trip
back
to
his
former
strain
of
consolation
—
"
he
is
not
thinking
of
it
;
I
promise
you
,
I
give
you
my
word
of
honour
"
—
becoming
perfectly
reckless
and
completely
insensate
—
"
that
he
shall
not
!
"
But
she
is
too
strangled
with
sobs
to
make
any
rejoinder
.
"
He
shall
have
the
best
of
nursing
,
"
goes
on
Jim
.
"
I
have
telegraphed
for
a
nurse
to
Nice
.
How
astonishing
it
is
that
in
a
place
of
this
size
you
cannot
get
a
decent
sick-nurse
!
I
hoped
we
might
have
caught
the
one
who
nursed
General
Smith
before
—
—
"
He
stops
abruptly
,
with
a
too
tardy
recollection
that
the
allusion
is
not
a
happy
once
,
since
the
General
died
two
days
ago
.
Unfortunately
,
she
also
remembers
,
as
is
evidenced
by
the
strong
shudder
that
passes
over
her
.
"
If
he
dies
,
will
he
be
buried
in
that
deep
narrow
,
red
grave
that
they
showed
us
in
the
Protestant
cemetery
,
and
which
they
said
that
they
always
kept
open
for
English
visitors
?
If
he
dies
!
if
he
dies
!
Oh
,
if
I
could
but
have
told
him
!
if
he
would
but
have
waited
for
me
to
tell
him
how
it
really
was
!
"
CHAPTER
X
.
Though
"
February
Fill-dyke
"
was
never
and
nowhere
truer
to
her
name
than
this
year
,
and
in
Algiers
—
coming
laden
with
wet
days
to
make
the
green
Sahel
,
if
possible
,
greener
than
it
was
before
;
yet
the
inhabitants
of
the
Grand
Hotel
do
not
again
,
for
a
matter
of
three
weeks
,
relieve
their
ennui
or
let
off
their
energies
in
far
from
Dumb
Crambo
,
or
loud
charade
.
The
voice
of
the
battledore
is
silent
in
the
entrance-hall
,
and
the
shuttlecock
sleeps
.
M
.
Cipriani
has
scarcely
had
to
do
more
than
mention
his
request
that
they
would
lay
aside
their
more
noisy
pastimes
,
for
they
are
,
most
of
them
,
rather
good-natured
persons
than
otherwise
,
since
,
indeed
,
it
is
quite
as
uncommon
to
be
very
ill-natured
as
to
be
very
selfless
,
or
very
foolish
,
or
very
wise
.
Those
of
them
who
have
been
fortunate
enough
to
be
present
at
the
catastrophe
have
carried
away
such
a
moving
image
of
a
wounded
Adonis
,
apparently
several
yards
long
,
stretched
upon
Mrs.
Le
Marchant
's
Persian
carpet
,
that
they
have
infected
those
less
happy
persons
who
know
of
him
only
by
hearsay
with
a
compassionate
interest
scarcely
inferior
to
their
own
.
The
only
person
in
the
hotel
who
makes
much
noise
is
poor
Byng
himself
,
and
for
awhile
he
falls
it
with
clamour
enough
to
furnish
two
or
three
of
those
bump
suppers
of
which
,
not
so
long
ago
,
he
was
a
conspicuous
ornament
.
There
had
never
,
even
when
he
was
in
his
wits
,
been
much
disguise
as
to
the
state
of
his
feelings
;
now
that
he
is
out
of
them
,
the
whole
house
rings
with
his
frantic
callings
upon
the
name
of
Elizabeth
,
uttered
in
every
key
of
rage
,
expostulation
,
tenderness
,
and
appeal
.
These
cries
reach
Elizabeth
herself
as
she
sits
cowering
in
that
one
of
the
little
suite
of
rooms
which
is
nearest
the
door
of
entrance
—
sits
there
cowering
,
and
yet
with
the
door
,
through
which
those
dreadful
sounds
penetrate
to
her
,
ajar
,
in
order
the
better
to
hear
them
—
cowering
,
and
for
several
days
alone
.
Owing
to
various
accidents
,
similar
in
their
results
,
though
differing
in
character
,
almost
a
week
elapses
from
the
first
breaking
out
of
Byng
's
malady
before
the
arrival
of
either
the
hospital
nurse
or
of
Mrs.
Byng
.
When
the
latter
event
occurs
,
Mrs.
Le
Marchant
retires
from
her
post
at
the
sick
man
's
bedside
with
the
same
unostentatious
matter-of-factness
with
which
she
had
assumed
it
,
and
Elizabeth
is
no
longer
alone
.
But
to
set
against
this
advantage
is
the
counterbalancing
evil
that
,
after
the
arrival
of
Byng
's
mother
,
she
can
no
longer
steal
out
,
as
she
had
before
done
a
hundred
times
a
day
,
to
his
door
,
to
glean
fragments
of
tidings
from
any
outcomer
thence
.
She
is
never
able
to
repeat
those
little
surreptitious
excursions
after
that
occasion
when
Mrs.
Byng
,
coming
suddenly
out
upon
her
,
passes
her
with
such
speaking
,
if
silent
,
hostility
and
scorn
in
her
tired
and
grief-stricken
eyes
,
that
the
luckless
spy
slinks
back
sobbing
to
her
own
tender
mother
;
and
there
Jim
,
flying
out
a
while
after
to
carry
them
a
crumb
of
reassurance
,
finds
them
,
to
his
indignation
,
mingling
their
bitter
tears
.
Whatever
else
his
faults
may
be
,
Mr.
Burgoyne
is
a
man
of
his
word
;
he
certainly
keeps
his
promise
to
Elizabeth
that
Byng
shall
be
well
nursed
.
He
keeps
his
other
promise
,
too
—
though
that
is
more
by
good
luck
than
good
management
—
that
Byng
shall
not
die
.
Whether
to
hinder
his
friend
from
being
made
a
liar
,
or
because
he
himself
is
loth
to
leave
a
world
which
he
has
found
so
pretty
,
cruel
,
and
amusing
,
Byng
does
not
die
—
Byng
lives
.
By
her
25th
day
February
has
dried
her
tears
,
though
they
still
hang
on
her
green
lashes
,
and
a
great
galleon
of
a
sun
steers
through
a
tremendous
sea
of
blue
,
as
Jim
persuades
Byng
's
mother
to
go
out
for
her
first
delicious
drive
in
that
fresh
and
satin-soft
air
of
the
Algerian
February
,
which
matches
our
best
poets
'
May
.
He
takes
her
along
the
Route
des
Aqueduques
,
that
lovely
route
which
runs
high
along
the
hillside
among
the
villas
above
the
town
,
so
high
as
to
be
on
a
level
with
the
roofs
of
the
lofty-standing
Continental
and
Orient
Hotels
.
It
is
a
most
twisting
road
,
which
in
curves
and
loops
winds
about
the
head
of
narrow
deep
gorges
,
full
of
pale
olive-trees
,
caroubiers
,
and
ilex
.
Below
lies
the
red-roofed
white
town
.
Slowly
they
trot
past
the
campagne
of
the
"
English
Milor
,
"
"
L'Epicier
Anglais
,
"
and
many
others
,
over
whose
high
walls
bougainvillias
light
their
now
waning
purple
fires
,
and
big
bushes
of
fleurs
de
Marie
stoop
their
milky
stars
.
Mrs.
Byng
's
eyes
,
sunk
and
diminished
by
watching
and
weariness
,
have
been
lying
restfully
on
the
delightful
spring
spectacle
—
on
the
great
yellow
sorrels
by
the
wayside
;
she
now
turns
them
tear-brimmed
to
her
companion
.
"
I
could
jump
out
of
my
skin
!
"
she
says
shakily
.
"
What
a
sun
!
what
a
sea
!
And
to
think
that
,
after
all
,
we
have
pulled
him
through
.
"
Jim
's
only
answer
is
a
sympathetic
pressure
of
the
extremely
well-fitting
glove
nearest
him
.
If
Willy
had
died
instead
of
lived
,
her
gloves
would
have
fitted
all
the
same
.
"
But
we
are
not
out
of
the
wood
yet
,
"
continues
she
,
with
a
shake
of
the
head
.
"
He
is
cured
,
or
nearly
cured
,
of
one
disease
,
but
what
about
the
other
?
"
"
What
other
?
"
inquires
he
,
obstinately
stupid
,
and
with
somewhat
of
a
heart-sinking
at
the
prospect
of
the
engagement
which
he
sees
ahead
of
him
.
How
many
elbows
the
road
makes
!
It
seems
to
have
been
cut
in
places
right
through
the
wet
red
rock
,
now
overhung
by
such
a
torrent
of
vegetation
.
At
the
head
of
one
of
the
deep
clefts
that
run
up
from
the
sea
they
pause
,
and
look
down
upon
a
second
sea
of
greenery
that
would
seem
to
belong
to
no
month
less
leafy
than
June
.
To
June
,
too
,
belong
the
murmur
and
hum
and
summer
trickle
of
running
water
at
the
ravine
bottom
.
"
I
do
not
see
why
,
if
he
goes
on
as
swimmingly
as
he
is
now
doing
,
"
says
Mrs.
Byng
in
a
restless
voice
—
"
why
we
should
not
get
him
off
in
a
week
,
even
if
he
were
carried
on
board
the
boat
.
"
"
A
week
?
Is
not
that
rather
sanguine
?
"
"
I
do
not
think
so
,
the
sooner
the
better
;
and
during
that
week
I
should
think
she
could
hardly
make
any
attempt
to
see
him
.
"
"
Has
she
shown
any
signs
of
making
one
hitherto
?
"
"
Well
,
no
"
—
rather
grudgingly
.
"
In
fact
,
between
you
and
me
,
considering
that
it
is
they
who
have
brought
him
into
this
plight
,
I
think
they
might
have
shown
a
little
more
solicitude
about
him
.
In
the
last
ten
days
I
do
not
believe
that
they
have
been
once
to
the
door
to
inquire
.
"
"
You
do
not
seem
to
be
aware
,
"
says
Jim
,
in
a
voice
which
,
though
quiet
,
is
not
pacific
,
"
and
that
is
odd
,
considering
how
often
I
told
you
,
that
until
you
came
Mrs.
Le
Marchant
nursed
him
like
a
mother
;
not
like
a
mother
,
indeed
"
—
correcting
himself
with
a
somewhat
malicious
intention
—
"
for
mothers
grow
flurried
,
and
she
never
did
.
"
"
You
mean
that
she
nursed
him
better
than
I
do
,
"
in
a
jealous
tone
.
"
Well
"
—
more
generously
—
"
how
shabby
of
me
to
mind
,
if
she
did
!
I
do
not
mind
.
God
bless
her
for
it
!
I
always
thought
"
—
compunctiously
—
"
that
she
looked
a
nice
woman
.
"
"
She
is
nice
—
as
nice
"
—
descending
into
a
slang
unworthy
of
his
ripe
years
—
"
as
they
make
'
em
.
"
"
And
the
girl
—
I
suppose
one
can
hardly
call
her
a
girl
—
looks
nice
too
.
"
They
are
passing
the
Casbah
,
the
solid
Moorish
fortifications
,
about
which
now
hang
only
a
few
gaitered
,
sunburnt
,
baggy
Zouaves
.
Jim
has
a
silly
hope
that
,
if
he
maintains
an
entire
silence
,
the
current
of
his
companion
's
ideas
may
drift
into
another
channel
;
but
he
is
soon
undeceived
.
"
I
suppose
that
she
must
have
been
quite
,
quite
young
when
—
when
those
dreadful
things
happened
that
Willy
talked
about
in
his
delirium
?
"
"
Is
it
possible
"
—
indignantly
—
"
that
you
take
the
ravings
of
a
fever-patient
au
pied
de
la
lettre
?
"
"
No
,
I
do
not
;
but
"
—
with
an
obstinate
sticking
to
her
point
—
"
there
was
a
substratum
of
truth
in
them
;
that
was
only
too
evident
.
"
Jim
shuts
his
teeth
tight
together
.
His
vow
of
silence
is
harder
to
keep
than
he
had
thought
.
"
Since
he
came
to
himself
he
has
never
mentioned
her
to
me
,
"
continues
his
companion
anxiously
;
"
has
he
to
you
?
"
"
No.
"
"
I
quite
tremble
whenever
he
opens
his
lips
,
lest
he
should
be
going
to
begin
the
subject
,
and
one
could
not
contradict
him
yet
awhile
;
he
is
so
quixotic
,
it
is
quite
likely
that
he
may
have
some
distorted
idea
that
her
being
—
how
shall
I
say
?
—
flétrie
—
is
an
additional
reason
for
standing
by
her
,
rehabilitating
her
,
marrying
her
.
He
is
so
chivalrous
.
"
They
have
left
the
Prison
Civile
and
the
Zouave
Barracks
behind
them
.
A
longer
interval
than
that
usually
supposed
to
elapse
between
a
remark
and
its
rejoinder
has
passed
,
before
Jim
can
bring
himself
to
utter
the
following
sentence
with
the
calmness
which
he
wishes
:
"
Has
it
never
occurred
to
you
that
she
may
be
chivalrous
too
?
"
Perhaps
Mrs.
Byng
does
not
readily
find
a
response
to
this
question
;
perhaps
it
sets
her
off
upon
a
train
of
speculation
which
does
not
conduce
to
garrulity
.
Certain
it
is
that
,
for
the
rest
of
the
drive
,
she
is
as
silent
as
Jim
could
wish
her
.
It
is
a
sharp
surprise
to
him
two
days
later
to
be
mysteriously
called
outside
the
sick
man
's
door
by
her
,
in
order
to
be
informed
that
she
has
invited
Miss
Le
Marchant
to
accompany
her
on
a
drive
.
"
I
went
to
call
upon
them
,
"
she
says
,
avoiding
—
or
so
he
fancies
it
—
his
eye
as
she
speaks
;
"
and
I
asked
the
girl
to
drive
with
me
to
the
Mole
,
and
get
a
good
blowing
about
.
"
"
How
kind
of
you
!
"
cries
Jim
,
a
flash
of
real
pleasure
in
his
serious
look
;
"
how
like
you
—
like
your
real
self
,
that
is
!
"
And
he
takes
her
hand
to
thank
it
by
a
friendly
pressure
.
But
she
draws
it
away
rather
hastily
.
"
Oh
,
it
was
nothing
so
very
wonderful
—
nothing
to
thank
me
for
.
"
She
seems
confused
and
a
little
guilty
,
and
escapes
with
some
precipitation
from
his
gratitude
.
Mrs.
Byng
is
not
a
woman
addicted
to
double-dealing
,
and
if
she
ever
makes
any
little
essays
in
that
direction
,
she
does
them
,
as
on
this
present
occasion
,
villainously
.
Burgoyne
is
not
at
the
hall-door
to
help
the
ladies
into
the
carriage
when
they
set
off
.
Perhaps
this
may
be
because
he
is
in
attendance
upon
the
invalid
.
Perhaps
because
—
glad
as
he
had
at
first
felt
and
expressed
himself
at
their
friendliness
—
some
misgiving
may
,
upon
reflection
,
have
beset
him
at
so
strange
a
conjunction
.
At
all
events
,
it
is
only
Fritz
who
throws
the
light
Arab
rug
over
their
knees
and
gives
them
his
encouraging
parting
smile
.
Poor
Miss
Le
Marchant
needs
his
encouragement
,
for
,
indeed
,
it
is
in
a
very
frightened
spirit
that
she
sets
forth
on
her
pleasuring
.
But
before
the
horse-bells
have
jingled
to
the
bottom
of
Mustapha
Supérieur
,
her
spirits
are
rising
.
The
sun
shines
,
and
he
has
shone
so
seldom
in
Elizabeth
's
life
that
a
very
few
of
his
beams
,
whether
real
or
metaphorical
,
suffice
to
send
up
her
quicksilver
.
She
does
not
consciously
admit
for
a
second
the
hope
that
in
the
present
overture
on
the
part
of
her
companion
lies
any
significance
.
But
yet
a
tiny
trembling
bliss
now
and
then
taps
at
her
heart
's
door
,
and
she
pushes
it
away
but
feebly
.
Before
they
have
reached
the
Amirauté
,
where
they
are
to
get
out
,
she
has
thanked
Mrs.
Byng
with
such
pretty
and
unsuspecting
gratitude
for
bringing
her
,
and
has
made
her
laugh
so
irrepressibly
by
her
gay
and
naïve
comments
upon
the
motley
passers-by
,
that
the
latter
is
filled
with
a
compunctious
regret
that
a
person
with
such
lovely
manners
,
and
such
a
sense
of
a
joke
,
should
have
made
so
disastrous
a
fiasco
of
her
life
as
renders
necessary
the
extremely
distasteful
errand
on
which
she
herself
is
at
present
bound
.
At
the
Amirauté
,
as
I
say
,
they
get
out
;
and
,
turning
under
a
groined
roof
that
looks
as
if
it
were
the
crypt
of
a
church
,
find
themselves
presently
upon
the
long
stone
breakwater
that
runs
out
into
the
bay
.
It
was
built
,
they
tell
us
,
in
old
days
by
the
wretched
Christian
captives
;
but
the
sea
has
taken
care
that
not
much
of
the
original
labour
of
blood
and
tears
has
survived
.
The
wind
is
high
,
and
the
sunshine
ardent
and
splendid
.
On
their
right
as
they
walk
,
with
the
wind
officiously
helping
them
from
behind
,
is
a
world
of
dancing
sapphire
,
each
blue
billow
white-tipped
.
On
their
left
are
great
blocks
of
masonry
,
built
strong
and
square
,
with
narrow
intervals
between
to
break
the
might
of
the
water
.
How
little
their
strength
has
availed
against
that
of
their
tremendous
opponent
is
seen
at
every
step
,
since
nearly
half
the
blocks
are
overthrown
or
in
semi-ruin
;
though
the
date
engraved
upon
them
shows
for
how
few
seasons
they
have
been
exposed
to
the
ravages
of
the
tempestuous
sea
.
They
walk
on
to
the
end
,
till
they
can
go
no
further
,
since
,
just
ahead
of
them
,
the
waves
are
rolling
in
half-fierce
play
—
though
the
day
is
all
smiles
—
over
the
breakwater
;
and
even
where
they
stand
,
their
footing
is
made
unsure
by
lengths
of
slimy
seaweed
that
set
them
slipping
along
.
Elizabeth
insists
upon
the
elder
woman
taking
her
slight
arm
—
insists
upon
carrying
her
wraps
,
and
generally
waiting
upon
and
ministering
to
her
.
From
the
bottom
of
her
heart
Mrs.
Byng
wishes
that
she
would
not
,
since
every
instance
of
her
soft
helpfulness
,
so
innocent
and
spontaneous
,
makes
more
difficult
the
answer
to
that
question
which
she
has
been
asking
herself
ever
since
they
set
foot
upon
the
Mole
:
"
How
shall
I
begin
?
"
It
is
unanswered
still
,
when
,
retracing
their
steps
a
little
,
they
sit
down
under
the
lee
of
one
of
the
half-wrecked
blocks
to
enjoy
the
view
.
From
here
the
sea
is
a
lake
,
the
distant
mountains
and
the
breakwater
seeming
—
though
in
reality
parted
by
how
wide
a
wet
waste
—
to
join
in
embracing
it
.
The
mountains
are
dim
and
filmy
to-day
,
Cape
Matifou
scarcely
visible
;
but
the
Koubah
shows
white-domed
on
the
hillside
,
and
all
the
dazzling
water
is
shot
through
with
blinding
light
.
The
town
,
Arab-French
,
is
dazzling
too
;
the
arcaded
quay
,
the
fortifications
,
one
can
scarcely
look
at
any
of
them
.
Two
or
three
steamers
,
with
a
little
vapour
issuing
from
their
ugly
black
and
red
funnels
,
lie
moored
;
and
other
smaller
craft
lift
their
spars
against
the
heaven
.
Near
by
a
man
is
sitting
with
his
legs
dangling
over
the
water
,
fishing
with
a
line
;
and
two
or
three
Arabs
,
draped
in
the
dignity
of
their
poetic
rags
,
lie
couched
round
a
fire
that
they
have
kindled
.
Beneath
and
around
them
is
the
banging
and
thundering
of
the
sea
.
August
noise
!
"
A
voice
like
the
sound
of
many
waters
.
"
Could
there
be
a
more
awful
comparison
?
Just
underneath
them
,
where
the
sea
has
made
a
greater
breach
than
usual
,
it
is
boiling
as
in
a
caldron
.
Looking
down
and
in
,
they
see
the
water
comparatively
quiet
for
a
moment
;
then
,
with
a
shout
of
its
great
jubilant
voice
,
rushing
and
surging
in
,
tossing
its
mane
.
Elizabeth
's
eyes
are
resting
on
the
heavenly
sapphire
plain
.
"
How
blue
!
"
she
says
,
under
her
breath
;
"
one
cannot
believe
that
it
is
not
really
blue
;
one
feels
that
if
one
took
up
a
little
in
a
spoon
it
would
be
just
as
blue
as
it
is
now
.
"
"
I
dare
say
it
will
not
feel
so
blue
when
we
are
on
it
,
"
replies
Mrs.
Byng
,
lugging
in
somewhat
awkwardly
,
as
she
feels
,
the
subject
which
she
finds
it
so
hard
to
introduce
,
"
as
I
suppose
we
shall
be
within
a
week
now
.
"
Her
charity
bids
her
not
glance
at
her
companion
as
she
speaks
,
so
she
is
not
quite
sure
whether
or
not
she
gives
a
start
.
"
Mr.
Burgoyne
thinks
that
I
am
sanguine
;
but
I
am
all
for
moving
him
as
soon
as
possible
;
it
cannot
be
too
soon
.
"
She
tries
to
throw
as
much
significance
as
they
are
capable
of
holding
into
the
latter
words
,
and
feels
that
she
has
succeeded
.
"
Of
course
he
may
refuse
to
go
,
"
continues
she
,
with
a
rather
strained
laugh
.
"
Do
you
remember
Victor
Hugo
's
definition
of
heaven
as
a
place
where
children
are
always
little
and
parents
are
always
young
?
I
am
continually
quoting
it
.
But
,
unfortunately
,
one
's
children
will
not
stay
little
;
they
grow
big
,
and
get
wills
of
their
own
,
and
it
is
quite
possible
he
may
refuse
to
go
.
"
"
Yes
?
"
almost
inaudibly
.
"
But
"
—
reddening
slightly
at
the
patently-intended
application
of
her
next
sentence
—
"
anyone
that
was
fond
of
him
—
anyone
that
liked
him
really
and
—
and
disinterestedly
,
I
mean
,
must
see
that
the
only
happy
course
for
him
would
be
to
go
;
that
it
would
be
his
salvation
to
get
away
;
they
—
they
would
not
try
to
hinder
him
.
"
"
I
should
think
that
no
one
would
do
that
.
"
There
is
not
a
touch
of
asperity
in
the
dove-soft
voice
;
but
there
is
a
shade
of
dignity
.
"
When
he
was
ill
—
while
he
was
delirious
"
(
"
How
dreadfully
unpleasant
it
is
!
"
in
an
anguished
internal
aside
)
—
"
I
could
not
help
hearing
—
gathering
—
drawing
inferences
.
"
The
ardour
of
the
chase
has
vanquished
her
charity
,
and
she
is
looking
at
her
victim
.
But
,
to
do
her
justice
,
the
success
of
her
labours
shocks
her
.
Can
this
little
aged
,
pinched
face
,
with
its
dilated
eyes
,
so
full
of
woe
and
terror
,
be
the
same
one
that
dimpled
into
riotous
laughter
half
an
hour
ago
at
the
sight
of
the
two
dirty
old
men
,
in
Jewish
gaberdines
and
with
gingham
umbrellas
,
kissing
each
other
by
the
Mosquée
de
la
Pêcherie
?
"
Of
course
it
was
all
incoherent
,
"
she
goes
on
hurriedly
,
snatching
at
the
first
expression
that
occurs
to
her
as
likely
to
undo
,
or
at
least
a
little
modify
,
her
work
—
"
nothing
that
one
could
make
sense
of
.
Only
your
name
recurred
so
incessantly
;
it
was
nothing
but
'
Elizabeth
,
Elizabeth
.
'
I
am
sure
"
—
with
a
remorseful
if
clumsy
attempt
to
be
kind
,
and
a
most
uneasy
smile
—
"
that
I
do
not
wonder
at
it
!
"
In
the
narrow
interspace
between
the
blocks
and
the
path
—
not
more
than
a
couple
of
fingers
wide
—
how
the
sea
forces
itself
!
and
up
race
its
foam-fountains
,
throwing
their
spray
aloft
in
such
mighty
play
,
as
if
they
would
hit
heaven
's
arch
.
What
exhilaration
in
its
great
glad
noise
,
superb
and
battle-ready
!
"
I
cannot
express
how
distasteful
a
task
this
is
to
me
"
—
in
a
tone
that
certainly
gives
no
reason
to
doubt
the
truth
of
her
statement
;
"
but
,
after
all
,
I
am
his
mother
;
he
is
all
I
have
in
the
world
,
and
I
am
sure
that
you
are
the
very
last
person
who
would
wish
to
do
him
an
injury
.
"
"
No
;
I
do
not
think
that
I
would
do
him
an
injury
.
"
How
curiously
still
and
slow
her
voice
is
!
Mrs.
Byng
has
resolutely
averted
her
eyes
,
so
that
her
purpose
may
not
again
be
shaken
by
the
sight
of
the
havoc
she
has
wrought
,
and
has
fixed
them
upon
some
sea
gulls
that
are
riding
up
and
down
upon
the
merry
waves
,
making
them
,
with
their
buoyant
motion
,
even
more
jocund
than
they
were
before
.
"
It
seems
an
impossible
thing
to
say
to
you
—
a
thing
too
bad
to
apologize
for
—
but
yet
I
must
say
it
"
—
in
a
tone
of
excessive
distress
,
yet
firmness
.
"
Under
the
circumstances
,
it
would
—
would
throw
a
blight
over
his
whole
life
.
"
"
Yes
,
I
know
that
it
would
;
I
have
always
known
it
;
that
is
why
we
left
Florence
.
"
"
And
very
good
it
was
of
you
,
too
!
Not
that
I
am
quite
certain
of
the
judiciousness
of
the
way
in
which
you
did
it
;
but
,
however
,
I
am
sure
you
meant
it
for
the
best
.
"
"
Yes
,
I
meant
it
for
the
best
.
"
The
sea-gulls
have
risen
from
the
billow
,
and
are
turning
and
wheeling
in
the
air
.
The
light
is
catching
their
wings
,
and
making
them
look
like
whitest
silver
.
It
seems
as
if
they
were
at
conscious
play
with
it
,
trying
experiments
as
to
how
they
can
best
catch
their
bright
playfellow
,
and
again
shake
it
off
,
and
yet
again
recapture
it
.
"
What
a
monster
you
must
think
me
!
"
breaks
out
the
elder
woman
presently
.
Now
that
the
impression
has
somehow
been
conveyed
to
her
mind
that
her
mission
is
likely
to
be
completely
successful
,
the
full
brutality
of
the
method
by
which
she
has
accomplished
it
bursts
upon
her
mind
.
"
How
treacherous
!
luring
you
out
here
,
under
the
pretence
of
friendliness
,
to
say
such
horrible
things
to
you
!
"
Elizabeth
's
narrow
hands
are
clasped
upon
her
knee
,
and
her
small
heart-broken
,
white
face
is
looking
out
straight
before
her
.
"
No
,
I
do
not
think
you
a
monster
,
"
she
answers
—
"
you
are
a
kind-hearted
woman
!
and
it
must
have
been
very
,
very
unpleasant
to
you
.
I
am
quite
sorry
"
—
with
a
sort
of
smile
—
"
for
you
,
having
to
do
it
;
but
you
are
his
mother
.
If
I
had
been
his
mother
,
I
should
have
done
the
same
;
at
least
,
I
suppose
so
.
"
"
I
am
sure
,
if
things
had
been
different
,
there
is
no
one
that
I
should
have
—
I
do
not
know
when
I
ever
saw
anyone
whom
I
took
such
a
fancy
to
.
If
it
had
not
been
for
the
disparity
—
I
mean
,
if
he
had
been
less
young
and
unfit
to
take
upon
himself
the
serious
responsibilities
of
life
—
—
"
How
deplorably
lame
even
to
Mrs.
Byng
's
ears
sound
her
tardy
efforts
to
place
the
grounds
of
her
objection
on
a
less
cruel
basis
than
that
which
she
has
already
made
so
nakedly
plain
to
be
the
real
one
!
Even
the
sweet-mannered
Elizabeth
does
not
think
it
necessary
to
express
gratitude
for
such
insulting
civilities
.
"
I
do
not
quite
understand
what
you
wish
me
to
do
,
"
she
says
,
with
quiet
politeness
;
"
if
you
will
explain
to
me
—
—
"
"
Oh
,
I
do
not
want
to
dictate
to
you
;
please
do
not
imagine
I
could
think
of
being
so
impertinent
;
but
,
of
course
,
he
will
be
asking
for
you
.
Since
he
came
to
himself
,
he
has
not
mentioned
you
as
yet
;
but
of
course
he
will
.
I
am
expecting
it
every
moment
;
probably
he
has
not
felt
up
to
embarking
on
the
subject
.
He
will
ask
for
you
—
will
want
to
see
you
.
"
"
And
you
wish
me
not
to
see
him
?
"
Her
delicate
suffering
mouth
quivers
;
but
she
is
perfectly
composed
.
"
Oh
,
but
of
course
you
must
see
him
!
you
quite
,
quite
misunderstand
me
!
Much
chance
there
would
be
"
—
with
a
wretched
stunted
laugh
—
"
of
getting
him
away
without
a
sight
of
you
!
How
little
you
know
him
!
"
Elizabeth
does
not
dispute
the
fact
of
her
want
of
acquaintance
with
Byng
's
character
,
nor
does
she
help
his
floundering
parent
by
any
suggestion
.
She
merely
goes
on
listening
to
her
with
that
civil
white
look
,
while
the
sportive
sea-mews
still
play
at
hide-and-seek
with
the
sun-rays
on
the
wide
blue
fields
of
heaven
.
"
It
is
dreadful
that
I
should
have
to
say
these
things
to
you
,
"
says
Mrs.
Byng
,
in
a
voice
of
the
strongest
revolt
and
ire
against
her
destiny
—
"
insult
you
in
this
unprovoked
way
;
but
,
in
point
of
fact
,
you
are
the
only
person
in
the
world
who
can
convince
him
that
—
that
—
it
is
impossible
—
that
it
cannot
be
.
Of
course
he
will
be
very
urgent
and
pressing
,
and
I
know
how
persuasive
he
is
.
Do
not
you
suppose
that
I
,
his
own
mother
,
know
how
hard
it
is
to
refuse
him
anything
?
and
of
course
,
in
his
present
weak
state
,
it
must
be
very
carefully
done
.
He
could
not
stand
any
violent
contradiction
.
You
would
have
to
be
very
gentle
;
dear
me
!
"
—
with
a
fresh
access
of
angry
remorse
—
"
as
if
you
ever
could
be
anything
else
.
"
This
compliment
also
its
pale
object
receives
in
silence
.
"
You
know
one
has
always
heard
that
there
are
two
kinds
of
'
No
,
'
"
goes
on
Mrs.
Byng
with
another
dwarfish
laugh
,
which
has
a
touch
of
the
hysteric
in
it
—
"
a
woman
's
'
No
,
'
as
it
is
called
,
that
means
'
Yes
'
;
and
a
'
No
'
which
anyone
—
which
even
he
—
must
understand
to
be
final
.
If
you
could
—
I
dare
say
I
am
asking
you
an
impossibility
—
but
if
you
could
make
him
understand
that
this
time
it
is
final
!
"
There
is
a
silence
between
them
.
An
unrulier
billow
than
usual
,
yet
more
masterless
in
its
Titan
play
,
is
hurling
itself
with
a
colossal
thud
and
bang
against
the
causeway
;
and
Elizabeth
waits
till
its
clamour
is
subsided
before
she
speaks
.
"
Yes
,
"
she
answers
slowly
,
"
I
understand
;
thank
you
for
telling
me
what
you
wish
.
I
think
I
may
promise
that
I
shall
be
able
to
—
that
I
shall
make
him
understand
that
it
is
final
.
"
A
moment
or
two
later
they
are
on
their
way
back
to
the
Amirauté
.
The
ocean
is
at
its
glorious
pastimes
all
around
them
;
the
hill-climbing
,
shining
town
smiles
upon
them
from
its
slope
;
but
upon
both
has
fallen
a
blindness
.
The
feelings
of
Mrs.
Byng
are
perhaps
the
least
enviable
of
the
two
.
They
are
nearly
back
at
the
beginning
of
the
breakwater
,
when
she
stops
short
.
Probably
when
cool
reflection
comes
,
when
she
is
removed
from
the
charm
and
pathos
of
Elizabeth
's
meek
white
presence
,
lovely
and
unreproachful
,
she
will
not
repent
her
work
;
but
at
the
present
moment
of
impulse
and
remorse
she
feels
as
if
the
expunging
of
the
last
half-hour
would
be
cheaply
purchased
by
the
sacrifice
of
six
months
of
her
remaining
life
.
"
I
suppose
it
is
not
the
least
use
my
asking
you
to
try
and
forgive
me
—
to
make
allowances
for
me
?
"
she
says
,
with
unsteady-toned
humility
;
"
oh
,
how
you
must
hate
me
!
If
the
case
were
reversed
,
how
I
should
hate
you
!
How
you
will
hate
me
all
your
life
!
"
The
tears
are
rolling
down
her
cheeks
,
and
in
an
instant
Elizabeth
's
hand
has
gone
out
to
her
.
As
it
does
so
,
the
grotesque
regret
flashes
across
the
elder
woman
's
mind
that
any
future
daughter-in-law
of
hers
will
be
most
unlikely
to
be
the
possessor
of
such
a
hand
.
"
Why
should
I
hate
you
?
you
cannot
"
—
with
a
heart-wrung
smile
—
"
possibly
think
me
more
undesirable
than
I
do
myself
;
and
even
if
it
were
not
so
,
I
do
not
think
it
is
in
me
to
hate
anyone
very
much
.
"
On
their
drive
home
they
meet
with
one
or
two
little
incidents
quite
as
funny
as
the
old
Jews
kissing
each
other
;
but
this
time
they
do
not
move
poor
Miss
Le
Marchant
to
any
laughter
.
CHAPTER
XI
.
"
I
do
remember
an
apothecary
,
—
And
hereabouts
he
dwells
.
"
Two
days
later
she
is
called
upon
to
perform
the
task
she
has
undertaken
.
Probably
she
has
spent
those
two
days
,
and
also
the
appertaining
nights
,
in
bracing
her
mind
to
it
,
for
Jim
can
plainly
see
the
marks
of
that
struggle
,
though
he
is
not
aware
of
its
existence
,
graved
upon
her
face
,
on
the
third
morning
after
the
excursion
to
the
Mole
,
when
he
comes
in
search
of
her
.
He
does
not
find
her
in
her
accustomed
corner
of
the
terrace
,
but
,
looking
down
over
the
balustrade
,
sees
her
sitting
below
and
alone
on
a
small
tree-shaded
plateau
that
seems
to
have
been
levelled
for
lawn-tennis
or
bowls
.
Probably
the
giggling
and
chaffering
of
the
girls
on
the
terrace
,
and
the
respectful
but
persistent
importunities
of
the
Omars
and
Ahmeds
to
buy
their
colourful
wares
outspread
on
the
hot
flags
have
oppressed
her
spirits
.
Fritz
has
carried
down
for
her
an
arm-chair
,
a
cane
table
,
and
a
Persian
rug
for
her
feet
,
and
she
looks
as
if
she
were
established
for
the
day
.
Since
Byng
has
been
out
of
danger
Elizabeth
has
returned
to
her
embroidery
.
She
is
one
of
those
women
to
whom
needlework
is
unaffectedly
dear
,
like
that
other
sweet
woman
"
who
was
so
delicate
with
her
needle
.
"
Before
she
catches
sight
of
him
he
watches
for
a
few
moments
her
bright
bent
head
and
flying
white
fingers
,
and
is
able
to
perceive
how
many
sighs
she
is
sewing
into
the
pattern
.
"
What
a
morning
!
"
he
says
,
running
down
the
steps
and
joining
her
.
"
No
one
has
any
excuse
for
being
an
invalid
to-day
,
has
he
?
"
There
is
no
second
seat
,
so
he
stands
beside
her
,
looking
up
over
her
head
at
the
tall
trees
above
her
,
from
which
immense
garlands
of
ivy
are
hanging
and
swinging
in
the
warm
breeze
.
That
potent
ivy
has
killed
one
tree
altogether
.
She
glances
up
at
him
mutely
,
knowing
that
he
has
not
come
merely
to
tell
her
that
the
day
is
fine
.
"
We
can
hardly
keep
him
on
his
sofa
;
he
is
virtually
almost
well
,
so
well
that
he
is
quite
up
to
seeing
people
.
He
would
like
—
he
has
been
asking
—
to
see
you
.
"
He
had
thought
her
nearly
as
pale
as
it
was
possible
for
her
to
be
when
he
had
first
come
upon
her
.
He
now
realizes
how
many
degrees
of
colour
she
then
had
left
to
lose
.
While
he
speaks
she
has
been
mechanically
pulling
her
thread
through
,
and
as
he
ceases
,
her
lifted
hand
stops
as
if
paralyzed
,
and
remains
holding
her
needle
in
the
air
.
It
has
come
,
then
.
For
all
her
two
days
'
bracing
,
is
she
ready
for
it
?
"
Now
?
"
The
whisper
in
which
this
monosyllable
is
breathed
is
so
stamped
with
a
fear
that
borders
on
terror
,
that
his
one
astonished
thought
is
bow
best
to
reassure
her
.
"
Not
if
you
do
not
feel
inclined
,
of
course
—
not
unless
you
like
.
It
can
perfectly
well
be
put
off
to
another
time
.
I
can
tell
him
—
there
will
not
be
the
least
difficulty
in
making
him
understand
—
that
you
do
not
feel
up
to
it
this
morning
:
that
you
would
rather
have
more
notice
.
"
"
But
I
would
not
,
"
she
says
,
standing
up
suddenly
,
and
with
trembling
hands
laying
her
work
down
upon
the
table
,
and
beginning
from
dainty
habit
to
pin
it
up
in
its
protecting
white
cloth
.
"
What
good
would
more
notice
—
a
year
's
notice
—
do
me
?
"
She
turns
away
from
him
and
fixes
her
unseeing
eyes
,
glassy
and
dilated
,
upon
a
poplar
tree
that
is
hanging
tasselled
catkins
out
against
the
sky
.
Then
once
again
she
faces
him
,
and
he
sees
that
there
are
cold
beads
of
agony
upon
her
forehead
.
"
Wish
for
me
,
"
she
says
huskily
—
"
wish
very
hard
for
me
,
that
I
may
get
through
it
—
that
we
may
both
get
through
it
—
alive
!
"
Then
,
motioning
to
him
with
her
hand
not
to
follow
her
,
she
walks
quickly
towards
the
hotel
.
It
is
impossible
to
him
to
stay
quiet
.
He
wanders
restlessly
away
,
straying
he
knows
not
whither
.
The
mimosas
are
out
charmingly
in
the
gardens
,
sending
delicious
whiffs
of
perfume
from
the
soft
yellow
fluff
of
their
flowers
.
The
pinky
almond-trees
are
out
too
,
but
not
till
long
afterwards
does
he
know
it
.
By-and-by
he
finds
himself
strolling
,
unhindered
by
a
gardener
placidly
digging
,
through
the
grounds
of
a
villa
to
let
.
Gigantic
violets
send
their
messages
to
his
nostrils
,
the
big
and
innumerable
blue
blossoms
predominating
over
the
leaves
,
which
in
England
have
to
be
so
carefully
searched
for
them
.
Superabundant
oranges
tumble
about
his
feet
;
arum
lilies
,
just
discovering
the
white
secret
hid
in
their
green
sheaths
,
stand
in
tall
rows
on
either
side
of
him
;
a
bed
of
broad
beans
points
out
the
phenomenon
of
her
February
flowers
to
him
.
He
sees
and
smells
none
of
them
.
Have
his
senses
stolen
away
with
his
heart
into
Byng
's
bedchamber
?
They
must
have
done
so
,
or
he
could
not
see
with
such
extraordinary
vividness
the
scene
enacting
there
.
He
has
himself
helped
to
place
it
in
such
astonishing
reality
before
himself
.
Does
not
he
know
the
exact
position
of
the
chair
she
is
to
occupy
?
Did
not
he
place
it
for
her
before
he
went
to
fetch
her
?
Nor
can
his
reason
prevent
his
distorted
fancy
from
presenting
the
interview
as
one
between
happy
and
confessed
lovers
.
Even
the
recollection
of
her
features
,
ghastly
and
with
beads
of
agony
dewing
them
,
cannot
correct
the
picture
of
his
mind
as
he
persistently
sees
it
.
That
she
meant
,
when
he
parted
from
her
,
to
renounce
Byng
,
he
has
no
manner
of
doubt
.
But
does
not
he
know
the
pliancy
of
her
nature
?
Is
not
he
convinced
that
the
rock
on
which
her
life
has
split
is
her
inability
ever
to
refuse
anyone
anything
that
they
ask
with
sufficient
urgency
or
with
enough
plausibility
to
persuade
her
that
she
can
do
them
a
kindness
by
yielding
?
How
much
more
,
then
,
will
she
be
incapable
of
resisting
the
importunate
passion
of
her
own
heart
's
chosen
one
,
freshly
risen
from
a
bed
of
death
?
Presently
his
restless
feet
carry
him
away
out
of
the
villa
grounds
again
.
He
finds
himself
on
the
Boulevard
Mustapha
,
and
sits
down
on
the
low
wall
by
the
roadside
,
staring
absently
at
a
broken
line
of
dusky
stone-pines
,
cutting
the
ardent
blue
of
the
African
sky
on
the
hill
opposite
,
and
at
an
arcaded
campagne
throned
high
up
among
the
verdure
.
He
knows
that
it
belongs
to
an
Englishman
who
made
reels
of
cotton
,
and
the
idle
thought
saunters
across
his
mind
how
strange
it
is
that
reels
of
cotton
should
wind
anyone
into
such
a
lofty
white
Eden
!
Can
the
interview
be
lasting
all
this
while
?
Is
not
it
yet
ended
?
May
not
his
tormented
fancy
see
the
chair
by
Byng
's
sofa
once
again
empty
or
occupied
by
nurse
or
mother
?
Will
not
Mrs.
Byng
,
will
not
Elizabeth
herself
;
have
seen
the
unfitness
of
taxing
the
sick
man
's
faint
powers
by
so
extreme
a
strain
upon
them
?
But
no
sooner
has
this
suggested
idea
shed
a
ray
of
light
upon
his
darkness
than
an
opposing
one
comes
and
blows
it
out
.
Has
not
Byng
a
will
of
his
own
?
Will
he
be
likely
so
soon
to
let
her
go
?
Nay
,
having
once
recovered
her
,
will
he
ever
let
her
out
of
his
sight
again
?
The
thought
restores
him
to
restless
action
,
and
,
although
with
sedulous
slowness
,
he
begins
to
retrace
his
steps
towards
the
hotel
.
At
a
point
about
a
quarter
of
a
mile
distant
from
it
,
the
lane
which
leads
to
the
Villa
Wilson
debouches
into
the
road
,
and
debouching
also
into
the
road
he
sees
the
figure
of
Cecilia
,
who
,
catching
sight
of
him
,
as
if
unable
to
wait
for
him
to
join
her
,
almost
runs
to
meet
him
.
"
I
was
coming
to
call
upon
you
,
"
says
she
eagerly
.
"
Oh
!
"
—
with
a
laugh
—
"
to-day
I
really
cannot
stay
to
think
of
the
proprieties
,
and
you
have
not
been
to
see
us
for
such
centuries
!
"
"
I
have
been
nursing
Byng
.
"
"
Oh
yes
;
poor
man
!
How
dreadfully
ill
he
must
have
been
!
I
was
so
glad
to
hear
he
was
better
.
"
There
is
such
a
flat
tepidity
in
the
tone
of
these
expressions
of
commiseration
,
something
so
different
from
the
tender
alertness
of
Cecilia
's
former
interest
in
their
object
,
that
Jim
,
roused
out
of
his
own
reflections
to
regard
her
more
attentively
than
he
has
yet
done
,
sees
that
she
is
preoccupied
by
some
subject
quite
alien
to
the
invalid
.
"
I
have
a
piece
of
news
to
tell
you
"
—
with
a
sort
of
angry
chuckle
.
"
Such
a
piece
of
news
!
I
am
sure
you
will
be
delighted
at
it
.
"
At
her
words
a
wonder
as
idle
and
slack
as
his
late
thought
about
the
reels
of
cotton
crosses
him
as
to
what
possible
piece
of
news
to
be
told
him
by
the
buxom
and
excited
person
,
before
him
could
give
him
the
faintest
pleasure
.
That
wonder
sends
up
his
eyebrows
,
and
throws
a
mild
animation
into
his
voice
.
"
Indeed
?
"
"
Do
you
like
"
—
still
chuckling
—
"
to
be
told
a
piece
of
news
or
to
guess
it
?
"
"
I
like
to
be
told
it
.
"
"
Well
,
then
"
—
with
a
dramatic
pause
—
"
we
are
going
to
have
a
wedding
in
the
family
!
"
"
My
dear
girl
!
"
cries
he
,
smiling
very
good-naturedly
,
and
with
a
sensation
that
,
though
not
violent
,
is
the
reverse
of
annoyance
.
"
Hurrah
!
So
he
has
come
at
last
!
Who
is
he
?
How
dark
you
have
kept
him
!
"
Cecilia
shakes
her
head
and
gives
a
short
and
rosy
laugh
.
"
Oh
,
it
is
not
I
!
You
are
wide
of
the
mark
.
"
"
Your
father
?
"
—
in
a
shocked
voice
.
He
has
a
confused
and
illogical
feeling
that
a
second
marriage
on
the
part
of
Mr.
Wilson
would
be
a
slight
upon
Amelia
's
memory
.
"
Father
!
"
—
with
an
accent
that
plainly
shows
him
he
is
still
further
afield
than
in
his
first
conjecture
—
"
poor
father
!
No
,
indeed
;
Heaven
forbid
!
Fancy
me
with
a
stepmother
!
"
She
pauses
to
give
a
shudder
at
the
idea
,
while
Jim
gapes
blankly
at
her
,
wondering
whether
she
has
gone
off
her
head
.
"
Oh
no
;
it
is
neither
father
nor
I
!
No
wonder
you
look
mystified
.
It
is
—
Sybilla
!
"
"
Sybilla
!
!
!
!
"
Although
Mr.
Burgoyne
has
not
got
it
on
his
conscience
that
he
has
ever
either
expressed
or
felt
anything
but
the
most
strenuous
and
entire
disbelief
in
Sybilla
's
maladies
,
yet
it
has
never
occurred
to
him
as
possible
that
she
should
engage
in
any
occupation
nearer
akin
to
the
ordinary
avocations
of
life
than
imbibing
tonics
through
tubes
and
eating
beef
essences
out
of
cups
.
"
She
is
going
to
marry
Dr.
Crump
!
"
continues
Cecilia
,
not
on
the
whole
dissatisfied
with
the
effect
of
her
torpedo
.
"
When
she
told
father
,
she
said
that
he
had
saved
her
life
,
and
that
the
least
she
could
do
was
to
dedicate
the
poor
remainder
of
it
to
him
.
She
tells
other
people
that
she
is
marrying
him
because
we
wish
it
!
You
know
that
that
was
always
her
way
.
"
"
Sybilla
!
!
"
"
I
thought
that
there
must
be
something
in
the
wind
,
as
since
the
beginning
of
the
month
she
has
never
once
wished
us
good-bye
;
and
the
housemaid
upset
the
ink-bottle
over
the
book
of
prescriptions
without
her
ever
finding
it
out
;
and
the
clinical
thermometer
has
not
appeared
for
a
week
!
"
"
Sybilla
!
!
!
"
"
I
thought
I
should
surprise
you
;
it
gives
one
a
disgust
for
the
idea
of
marrying
altogether
,
does
not
it
?
I
have
come
to
the
conclusion
that
I
do
not
care
now
if
I
never
marry
.
Father
and
I
get
on
quite
happily
together
;
and
when
one
is
well
off
,
one
can
really
be
very
fairly
content
in
a
single
state
;
and
,
at
all
events
,
I
am
sure
I
do
not
envy
Sybilla
.
"
"
Nor
I
Crump
"
—
with
an
emphasis
so
intense
that
Cecilia
bursts
out
into
a
laugh
of
a
more
genuine
character
than
any
she
has
yet
indulged
in
.
"
You
will
have
to
give
her
away
!
"
she
cries
,
as
soon
as
she
can
again
speak
distinctly
.
"
Father
will
marry
her
,
of
course
,
and
you
must
give
her
away
.
I
am
sure
she
will
insist
upon
it
.
"
"
She
will
have
to
make
haste
,
then
,
"
returns
he
,
recovering
enough
from
his
first
stupefaction
to
join
Cecilia
in
her
mirth
;
"
for
I
shall
not
be
here
much
longer
.
"
"
You
are
not
going
away
?
"
—
raising
her
eyebrows
,
and
with
a
tinge
of
meaningness
in
her
tone
which
vaguely
frets
him
.
"
Why
should
not
I
go
?
"
he
asks
irritably
,
his
short
and
joyless
merriment
quite
quenched
.
"
What
is
there
for
a
man
to
do
here
?
I
have
stayed
already
much
longer
than
I
meant
.
I
am
engaged
to
meet
a
friend
at
Tunis
—
the
man
with
whom
I
went
to
the
Himalayas
three
years
ago
;
we
are
going
to
make
an
excursion
into
the
interior
.
I
am
only
waiting
for
some
guns
and
things
.
Why
should
not
I
go
?
"
"
There
is
no
earthly
reason
,
"
replies
she
demurely
;
"
only
that
I
did
not
know
you
had
any
such
intention
.
But
then
,
to
be
sure
,
it
is
so
long
since
I
have
seen
you
—
not
,
I
think
,
"
glancing
at
him
for
confirmation
of
her
statement
rather
too
innocently
,
"
since
the
lovers
—
ha
!
ha
!
—
and
I
met
you
and
Miss
Le
Marchant
driving
on
the
quay
.
"
CHAPTER
XII
.
Elizabeth
's
feeble
tap
at
Byng
's
door
is
instantly
answered
by
the
nurse
,
who
,
opening
it
smilingly
to
admit
her
,
the
next
moment
,
evidently
in
accordance
with
directions
received
,
passes
out
herself
and
shuts
it
behind
her
.
Elizabeth
,
deprived
of
the
chaperonage
of
her
cap
and
apron
,
and
left
stranded
upon
the
threshold
,
has
no
resource
but
to
cross
the
floor
as
steadily
as
a
most
trembling
pair
of
legs
will
let
her
.
The
room
is
a
square
one
,
two
of
its
thick
walls
pierced
by
Moorish
windows
.
Drawn
up
to
one
of
those
windows
—
the
one
through
which
Jim
had
caught
his
first
glimpse
of
Elizabeth
on
the
night
of
his
arrival
—
is
the
sick
man
's
sofa
.
At
the
side
of
that
sofa
his
visitor
has
,
all
too
soon
,
arrived
.
She
had
prepared
a
little
set
speech
to
deliver
at
once
—
a
speech
which
will
give
the
keynote
to
the
after-interview
;
but
,
alas
!
every
word
of
it
has
gone
out
of
her
head
.
Unable
to
articulate
a
syllable
,
she
stands
beside
him
,
and
if
anyone
is
to
give
the
keynote
,
it
must
be
he
.
"
This
is
very
,
very
good
of
you
.
It
seems
a
shame
to
ask
you
to
come
here
,
with
all
this
horrid
paraphernalia
of
physic
about
;
but
I
really
could
not
wait
until
they
let
me
be
moved
into
another
room
.
"
She
has
not
yet
dared
to
lift
her
eyes
to
his
face
,
in
terror
lest
the
sight
of
the
change
in
it
shall
overset
her
most
unsure
composure
.
Already
,
indeed
,
she
has
greedily
asked
and
obtained
every
detail
of
the
alteration
wrought
in
him
.
She
knows
that
his
head
is
shaved
,
that
his
features
are
sharp
,
and
that
his
voice
is
faint
;
and
when
,
as
he
ceases
speaking
,
she
at
last
wins
resolution
enough
to
look
at
him
,
she
sees
that
she
has
been
told
the
truth
.
His
head
is
shaven
,
his
nose
is
as
sharp
as
a
pen
,
and
his
voice
is
faint
.
She
has
been
told
all
this
;
but
what
is
there
that
she
has
not
been
told
?
What
is
his
voice
besides
faint
?
"
Will
not
you
sit
down
?
It
seems
monstrous
that
I
should
be
lying
here
letting
you
wait
upon
yourself
.
Will
you
try
that
one
?
"
pointing
to
the
chair
which
is
figuring
at
the
same
moment
so
prominently
in
Jim
's
tormented
fancy
.
"
I
am
afraid
you
will
not
find
it
very
comfortable
.
I
have
not
tried
it
yet
,
but
it
looks
as
hard
as
a
board
.
"
She
sits
down
meekly
as
he
bids
her
,
glad
to
be
no
longer
obliged
to
depend
upon
her
shaky
limbs
,
and
answers
:
"
Thank
you
;
it
is
quite
comfortable
.
"
"
Would
not
it
be
better
if
you
had
a
cushion
?
"
—
looking
all
round
the
room
for
one
.
His
voice
is
courteous
,
tender
almost
,
in
its
solicitude
for
her
ease
.
But
is
she
asleep
or
awake
?
Can
this
be
the
same
voice
that
poured
the
frenzy
of
its
heartrending
adjurations
into
her
ear
scarce
a
month
ago
?
Can
this
long
,
cool
,
white
saint
—
he
looks
somehow
like
a
young
saint
in
his
emaciation
and
his
skull-cap
—
be
the
stammering
maniac
who
,
when
last
she
saw
him
,
crashed
down
nigh
dead
at
her
feet
,
slain
by
three
words
from
her
mouth
?
At
the
stupefaction
engendered
by
these
questions
,
her
own
brain
seems
turning
,
but
she
feebly
tries
to
recover
herself
.
"
I
—
I
am
so
glad
you
are
better
.
"
"
Thank
you
so
much
.
Yes
,
it
is
nice
;
nice
to
be
"
'
Not
burnt
with
thirsting
,
Nor
with
hot
fingers
,
nor
with
temples
bursting
.
'
Do
you
remember
Keats
?
"
After
all
,
there
is
something
of
the
original
Byng
left
,
and
the
ghost
of
his
old
spouting
voice
in
which
he
recites
the
above
couplet
gives
her
back
a
greater
measure
of
composure
than
could
almost
anything
else
.
"
It
is
nice
,
only
one
would
like
to
be
able
to
jump
,
not
'
the
life
to
come
'
—
ha
!
ha
!
—
but
the
convalescence
to
come
.
My
mother
is
even
more
impatient
than
I
am
.
She
has
made
up
her
mind
that
we
are
to
be
off
in
three
days
,
even
if
I
am
carried
on
board
on
a
shutter
.
"
She
can
see
now
that
he
is
very
much
embarrassed
—
that
his
fluency
is
but
the
uneasy
cover
of
some
emotion
—
and
the
discovery
enables
her
yet
further
to
regain
possession
of
herself
.
"
I
should
think
,
"
she
says
in
her
gentle
voice
,
"
that
you
would
be
very
glad
to
get
out
of
this
room
,
where
—
where
you
have
suffered
so
much
.
"
"
Well
,
yes
;
one
does
grow
a
little
tired
of
seeing
"
'
The
casement
slowly
grow
a
glimmering
square
;
'
but
"
—
with
a
rather
forced
laugh
—
"
at
least
,
I
have
had
cause
to
be
thankful
that
there
is
no
wall-paper
to
count
the
pattern
of
.
I
have
blessed
the
white
wall
for
its
featureless
face
.
"
She
moves
a
little
in
her
chair
,
as
if
to
assure
herself
that
she
is
really
awake
.
That
stupefaction
is
beginning
to
numb
her
again
—
that
hazy
feeling
that
this
is
not
Byng
at
all
,
this
polite
invalid
,
making
such
civil
conversation
for
her
;
this
is
somebody
else
.
"
But
I
must
not
tire
myself
out
before
I
have
said
what
I
want
to
say
to
you
,
"
he
continues
,
his
embarrassment
perceptibly
deepening
,
while
his
transparent
hand
fidgets
uneasily
with
the
border
of
the
coverlet
thrown
over
him
,
"
or
"
—
laughing
again
—
"
I
shall
have
that
tyrant
of
a
nurse
down
upon
me
,
and
—
and
I
do
wish
—
I
have
wished
so
much
—
so
unspeakably
—
to
see
you
,
to
speak
to
you
.
"
She
sits
immovable
,
listening
,
while
a
ray
of
something
—
can
it
be
hope
?
why
should
it
be
hope
?
—
darts
across
her
heart
.
After
all
,
this
may
be
Byng
—
her
Byng
;
this
strange
new
manner
may
be
only
the
garment
in
which
sickness
has
dressed
his
passion
—
a
worn-out
garment
soon
to
drop
away
from
him
in
rags
and
tatters
,
and
in
which
cannot
she
already
discern
the
first
rent
?
After
all
,
she
may
have
need
for
her
armour
—
that
armour
which
,
so
far
,
has
seemed
so
pitifully
needless
.
"
I
knew
that
it
would
be
no
use
asking
leave
to
send
for
you
any
sooner
;
they
would
have
told
me
I
was
not
up
to
it
—
would
have
put
me
off
with
some
excuse
;
so
I
kept
a
'
still
sough
.
'
Do
you
know
that
I
never
mentioned
your
name
until
to-day
?
But
it
has
been
hard
work
,
I
can
tell
you
;
for
the
last
two
days
I
have
scarcely
been
able
to
bear
it
,
I
have
so
hungered
to
see
you
.
"
Her
eyelids
tremble
,
and
she
instinctively
puts
up
her
hand
to
cover
her
tell-tale
mouth
.
Surely
this
is
the
old
language
.
Surely
there
is
,
at
all
events
,
a
snatch
of
it
in
his
last
words
;
and
again
that
prick
of
illogical
joy
quickens
the
beats
of
her
fainting
heart
,
though
she
tries
to
chide
it
away
,
asking
herself
why
she
should
be
in
any
measure
glad
that
the
love
which
she
has
come
here
for
no
other
purpose
than
to
renounce
,
still
lives
and
stirs
.
"
You
may
think
I
am
exaggerating
,
but
in
point
of
fact
I
cannot
by
any
expression
less
strong
than
the
gnaw
of
downright
hunger
convey
the
longing
I
have
had
to
see
you
.
"
He
pauses
with
a
momentary
failure
of
his
still
feeble
powers
.
She
catches
her
breath
