Страница 56 из 61
“China or Indian?” said Di
“Whatever you’re having.”
“Then two coffees, please, and muffins.”
“Muffins! This IS a treat, dear papa. Those are quite good old copper bed-warmers, Miss Cherrell. I wonder if they’d sell them.”
“Do you collect?”
“Pick things up. No use having a Queen A
“Does your wife sympathise?”
“No, she’s all for the T.C.R., bridge, golf, and the modernities. I never can keep my hands off old silver.”
“I HAVE to,” murmured Di
“I did.”
She considered her next question, scrutinising him through her lashes. With all his æsthetic leanings, he looked uncommonly spry.
“In confidence, Mr. Forsyte, how did you manage to make that arrangement? Had it to do with my brother-inlaw?”
‘Very young’ Roger laid his hand on his heart.
“‘The tongue of Forsyte is his own,’ cf. Marmion. But you needn’t worry.”
“I need, or shall, unless I know it wasn’t that.”
“Make your mind easy, then; it had nothing to do with Corven.”
Di
They parted cordially, and Di
Di
“Well, Di
Di
“I know it’s nothing to do with Jerry Corven. You know Eustace Dornford, Uncle. I want you to find out from him quietly whether it’s he who is paying these costs.”
Adrian pulled at his beard.
“I don’t suppose he’d tell me.”
“Somebody must have paid them, and I can only think of him. I don’t want to go to him myself.”
Adrian looked at her intently. Her face was concerned and brooding.
“Not easy, Di
“I don’t know, they don’t know; nobody knows.”
“How are your people taking it?”
“Terribly glad it’s over, and don’t care much now it is. You’ll let me know soon, won’t you, Uncle dear?”
“I will, my dear; but I shall probably draw blank.”
Di
“I’ve asked Tony Croom here this evening,” she said, when Di
“Oh!” murmured Di
The words haunted her in the bus to Paddington, in the refreshment room while she ate a sandwich, in the railway carriage going home. Pay one’s debts! The first canon of self-respect! Suppose Dornford had paid those costs! Was she as precious as all that? Wilfrid had had all of her according to her heart and her hope and her desire. If Dornford wanted what was left over—why not? She dropped thinking of herself and went back to thought of Clare. Had she paid her debt by now? Transgressors by law—ought to transgress! And yet—so much future could be compromised in so few minutes!
She sat very still. And the train rattled on in the dying twilight.
CHAPTER 35
Tony Croom had spent a miserable week in his converted cottages at Bablock Hythe. The evidence given by Corven on his recall to the box had seared him, nor had Clare’s denial anointed the burn. In this young man was an old-fashioned capacity for jealousy. That a wife should accept her husband’s embrace was not, of course, unknown; but, in the special circumstances and states of feeling, it had seemed to him improper, if not monstrous, and the giving of his own evidence, directly after such a thrust at his vitals, had but inflamed the wound. A sad unreason governs sex; to be aware that he had no right to be suffering brought no relief. And now, a week after the trial, receiving her note of invitation, he had the impulse not to answer, to answer and upbraid, to answer ‘like a gentleman’—and, all the time, he knew he would just go up.
With nothing clear in his mind and that bruise still in his heart, he reached the Mews an hour after Di
“Well, Tony! Fu
“Exquisitely humorous.”
“You look ill.”
“You look fine.”
And she did, in a red frock open at the neck, and without sleeves.
“Sorry I’m not dressed, Clare. I didn’t know you’d want to go out.”
“I don’t. We’re going to dine in. You can leave the car out there, and stay as long as you like, and nobody the worse. Isn’t it nice?”
“Clare!”
“Put your hat down and come upstairs. I’ve made a new cocktail.”
“I take this chance to say I’m bitterly sorry.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Tony.” She began to mount the spiral stairway, turning at the top. “Come!”
Dropping his hat and driving gloves, he followed her. To the eyes of one throbbing and distraught, the room above had an air of preparation, as if for ceremony, or—was it sacrifice? The little table was set out daintily with flowers, a narrow-necked bottle, green glasses—the couch covered with some jade-green stuff and heaped with bright cushions. The windows were open, for it was hot, but the curtains were nearly drawn across and the light turned on. He went straight across to the window, stifled by the violent confusion within him.
“In spite of the Law’s blessing, better close the curtains,” said Clare. “Would you like a wash?”
He shook his head, drew the curtains close, and sat on the sill. Clare had dropped on to the sofa.
“I couldn’t bear to see you in the box, Tony. I owe you a lot.”
“Owe! You owe me nothing. It’s I—!”
“No! I am the debtor.”
With her bare arms crossed behind her neck, her body so graceful, her face a little tilted up—there was all he had dreamed about and longed for all these months! There she was, infinitely desirable, seeming to say: ‘Here I am! Take me!’ and he sat staring at her. The moment he had yearned and yearned for, and he could not seize it!
“Why so far off, Tony?”
He got up, his lips trembling, every limb trembling, came as far as the table, and stood gripping the back of a chair. His eyes fixed on her eyes, searched and searched. What was behind those dark eyes looking up at him? Not love! The welcome of duty? The payment of a debt? The toleration of a pal? The invitation of one who would have it over and done with? But not love, with its soft gleam. And, suddenly, there came before his eyes the image of her and Corven—THERE! He covered his face with his arm, rushed headlong down those twisting iron stairs, seized hat and gloves, and dashed out into his car. His mind did not really work again till he was far along the Uxbridge Road; and how he had got there without disaster he could not conceive. He had behaved like a perfect fool! He had behaved exactly as he had to! The startled look on her face! To be treated as a creditor! To be paid! THERE! On that sofa! No! He drove again with a sort of frenzy, and was brought up sharply by a lorry lumbering along in front. The night was just begi