Two days subsequent to his mother's arrival at Chilworth Cove1, Ronald Cavendish set out for London.
Aliette, masking her anxiety, drove him to the station; and for nearly an hour after the slow train left Chilton Junction2 he visualized3 nothing except her pale, exquisite4 face and the wistful smile in her brown eyes. Looking back, it seemed to him that those eyes had been very close to tears. Thinking of her, imagination roused all the tenderness, all the fighting instinct in him.
But gradually, as the lush countryside slid by, Ronnie's mind recovered a little of its legal function; and he began to map out, as carefully as he could, his plan of campaign.
The fear lest Brunton should refuse to take any action still hardly troubled him. To one of his public school training, it appeared utterly6 incredible that a man in Brunton's position, childless and without religious scruples7, should refuse to set free a wife who obviously did not care for him, and for whom (equally obviously, as it seemed) he did not himself care. Sheer caddishness of that description was the prerogative8 of rank outsiders like Carrington.
Nevertheless, Ronnie's instinct dictated9 caution. It would he best, he thought, to see Jimmy immediately on his arrival in London; and to ascertain11 from Jimmy how far his flight with Aliette had become public knowledge. Possibly, if there had been no open scandal, Brunton might hold his hand till after the long vacation. Scandal, whether at the bar or elsewhere, never did any one any good.
And at that, Ronald Cavendish knew apprehension12. His brain, hitherto blinded by the grand passion, began to see the ordinary point of view, the point of view he himself might have adopted towards their case a twelvemonth since. "Rather sordid," he would have considered the whole business, "rather hard luck on the husband." And so thinking, he imagined the bare legal tale as it might one day appear in the press. Commonplace enough! Mrs. Smith had left Mr. Smith, and was living in open adultery with Mr. Jones. Mr. Smith asked for a divorce; produced the usual evidence; secured the usual decree.
He tried to put apprehension away from him. He said to himself, "As if a little publicity13 mattered; as if anything mattered except her freedom." All the same, he knew that publicity would matter, that publicity would hurt Aliette and hurt his mother. "Damnable," he thought; "damnable that the law should take so little cognizance of the personal equation!"
And London, seen in the hot sunlight of a July afternoon as his taxi crawled over Waterloo Bridge, only intensified14 the unimportance of the individual. The isolation15 of Chilworth, the paradise of enchantment16 which love and Aliette had made for him at Chilworth, seemed a million miles removed from this peopled city. He recognized himself one of the herd17 again, forced to think as the herd, to act as the herd dictated. Moses Moffatt's face, smiling most confidential18 of welcomes at the green door in Jermyn Street, typified the herd point of view--the basement point of view--the feeling that, potentially, one was a mere19 co-respondent.
While the man was unpacking20 for him in the bare ascetic21 bedroom, Ronnie rang up Wilberforce, Wilberforce & Cartwright; and got through to Jimmy. Jimmy on the telephone sounded cold, serious, dignified22. Only after some persuasion23 would he consent to dine at the club.
"And by the way," asked Ronnie, "do you happen to know if Mollie Fullerford's in town?"
"Why?"
"I've got a letter for her."
"From her sister?"
"Yes."
"I'll give you her address this evening," said James Wilberforce, and replaced his receiver.
2
The Lustrum is one of those semi-social, semi-political clubs which combine sound cookery, a cellar beyond reproach, and a chairman of the utmost distinction, with the architectural style of a Turkish bath and the gloom of a family mausoleum. A tape-machine ticks by the glass-doored porter's box in the hall; an enormous gold-framed oil of Mr. Asquith stares down the red marble staircase; English waiters--last of their breed--move in unhurried dignity through the vast dining-room; while "members bringing guests" are subject to rules so complicated that even the honorary secretary--who takes most of the credit for the paid secretary's work when he appears before a somnolent24 committee--has been known to infringe25 them.
The constraint26 of this atmosphere weighed so heavily on the friends as to make immediate10 conversation impossible. Only after a bottle of the Lustrum's pre-war Pommard, a glass apiece of the Lustrum's '68 port, and the third of a cigar consumed over coffee in the stuffy27 guest-room, did Jimmy Wilberforce manage:
"Old chap, I'm afraid this is a devil of a mess. You've seen your mater, I suppose!"
"Seen her!" Ronnie smiled--and then, cautiously: "Didn't you know that she was staying with us?"
"Us?" Wilberforce repeated the word. "You mean----"
"With myself and Aliette."
Wilberforce's eyes narrowed. He took the tawny28 cigar from under his auburn mustache, and scrutinized29 it a longish while before saying:
"Tell me, then: why are you in town?"
"Primarily to see H. B. We've waited quite long enough for him to make a move."
The matter-of-fact tone annoyed Wilberforce. Despite his resolves not to let the personal issue between himself and Aliette's sister cloud impersonal30 judgment31, that issue had been recurring32 to his mind all through the dreary33 bachelor dinner. For six weeks Mollie had been on the defensive34 with him, unseizable if not unapproachable; for six weeks he had been wavering between the strong desire to "go gently till this damn mess was cleared up," and the fear of what "Society" would think about the match. Therefore, it irritated him that Ronnie should speak about the whole affair as though running away with another man's wife were an every-day occurrence, as though he, Ronnie, were the injured party.
"Rather an unwise move, don't you think?" he said.
"Unwise! One can't let him go on shilly-shallying like this."
"If you've got it into your head that you're going to bully35 Hector Brunton into giving Mrs. Brunton her freedom," retorted Jimmy, "I should give up the idea"; and he added: "I should have thought your best plan would be to lie doggo. After all, you must remember that he's the aggrieved36 party."
"If you feel that way about it," Ronnie's eyes kindled37 to anger, "we won't discuss the matter further."
"My dear fellow," he began, assuming his father's blandness39, "do be reasonable. Don't think I fail to understand your feelings. I know you well enough to realize that you wouldn't have acted as you have acted without imagining yourself justified40. Very possibly you are justified. Very possibly there are circumstances--I hold no brief for H. B. All I want to do is to help you and your mother. And so if you come to me for advice, I am bound to tell you exactly what I think. It's for Brunton to move, not you."
"He's had plenty of time. And I'm sick of waiting."
Ronnie rose from the deep saddle-bag chair. His instinct was all for a row. Unreasonably42, with the divine unreason of a lover, he had expected sympathy; instead he had met a wall, a wall of misunderstanding between himself and his best friend. "Damn Jimmy," he thought. "Jimmy's common sense ought to tell him that this isn't the usual thing."
And suddenly Aliette's lover realized that Jimmy's common sense had told him nothing, that Jimmy's very common sense prevented him from understanding the peculiar44 relationship between Aliette and her legal owner. He wanted to tell Jimmy the truth about that relationship; but his training, the code of decent reticence45, every tradition of public schooldom restrained him. Decency46 suggested that neither then to James Wilberforce, nor eventually in court, could he make public the matrimonial position between Aliette and Hector. "Tongue-tied!" he thought. "Even if I were an orator47, in her defense48 I should always be tongue-tied."
Nevertheless, his anger relented.
"Except yourself, Jimmy," he went on, "there's no mutual friend who could act for us; and I can't ask you to act because of your firm's relations with him. Therefore, I'm going to do the job myself."
"Plucky! I don't see anything plucky in it."
"Supposing H. B. cuts up rough?"
"Why should he? He's in the wrong, and he knows it."
"All the more reason." Wilberforce, too, rose. Watching his friend carefully, he saw that their conversation had aroused him to fighting-pitch; and Ronnie at fighting-pitch--as Jimmy remembered from their Oxford51 days--was capable of being a rather desperate person.
"Don't you cut up rough, old man," he continued. "There'll be quite enough trouble without a police-court case into the bargain."
"You needn't be afraid, Jimmy." Ronnie controlled himself. "I'll manage to keep my temper with the fellow. By the way, you don't feel there's any chance of his refusing to file his petition, do you?"
"Hardly. H. B. isn't a religious chap, or anything of that sort. He might go for damages, of course."
"We could settle that before we went into court."
They simmered down; sat down; relit cigars; and began to discuss the legal aspect of the case which each felt sure that Brunton must eventually bring; finally deciding that Wilberforce, Wilberforce & Cartwright could not, under the special circumstances, act for either party.
"J. J. W. would be your best man," said James.
So interested did they become in the professional issue that it was nearly midnight before Ronnie said, "By the way, I'd almost forgotten to ask you for Mollie Fullerford's address"; and Wilberforce, "Do you really think it's advisable for you to go and see her?"
"Advisable! How do you mean?"
The two friends faced one another in silence, each constrained52 by the peculiar diffidence of their class, the diffidence which makes the discussion of women, and especially of their own women, so terribly difficult to decent Englishmen.
At last Wilberforce said: "You see, old chap, if this case comes on, I'm afraid it will be a big shock to her. H. B. might call her as a witness. Pretty rough on a girl, being dragged into"--he hesitated--"this sort of thing."
"Yes, rotten. We'll have to keep her name out." Ronnie, too, hesitated. "She hasn't said anything to you, I suppose?"
"No, but I feel she knows." The red man nearly blushed. "I say, you'll be decent about breaking things, won't you? You'll let her down lightly. Mollie's jolly fond of her sister, and--er--you mustn't mind my saying it--her sister hasn't behaved over-well in this business--leaving her all by herself at Brunton's."
"My fault, Jimmy. It was I who persuaded Aliette not to wait. But I promise you, I'll see that Brunton keeps Mollie Fullerford's name out of the affair.
"By the way," added Ronnie casually53, "you remember something you said to me just before we went into court in the Ellerson case?" A pause. "Does that still hold good? What I mean is this. I should never forgive myself if I thought that this--this trouble of mine----"
"I'm not that sort of cad," retorted James Wilberforce hotly. But all the same, walking home through the night, he realized once more--with revolting clarity--himself. Which self-knowledge is no bad discipline for the James Wilberforces of this world!
3
Ronnie, too, walked home from the Lustrum. The interview with Wilberforce had clarified his mind; he foresaw now exactly how his world would regard the case. The foreknowledge hardened his determination to see Brunton. He must see Brunton. Brunton must be brought to immediate action. Otherwise----
Resolutely54 the man strove to put that "otherwise" away from him. But the "otherwise" kept on intruding55. Suppose Aliette's legal owner refused to take any action at all? Carrington had waited five years.
And that night, his first bereft56 of her, alone and sleepless57 at Jermyn Street, Aliette's lover began to conceive a hatred58 of Aliette's legal owner. The Wixton imagination, always most active in darkness, showed him pictures of Brunton, of the sandy hair, the cold gray eyes, the feet in their big boots. Tossing sleepless on his tumbled pillows, imagination bade him remember that once--long ago though it must have been--Brunton had actually----
Horrors, physical horrors, capered59 and sarabanded before his eyes, rousing the blood-lust in him--the old blood-lust experienced four years since. He remembered, just as sleep overtook him, the face of a Turk he had killed. His squadron was charging. Behind him, he heard the galloping60 stamp of shod hoofs61 on desert, the creak of saddlery, the jingle62 of accoutrements, the curses of his men; in front of him rose a face, the face of the Turk, bearded above dirty linen63. The face was afraid; he could see the face twitch64 as he fired. Only as he fired, the face changed--became the face of Hector Brunton.
4
"I'm afraid you didn't sleep very well last night, sir," said Moses Moffatt, serving the usual faultless rashers in Ronnie's beige-papered sitting-room65.
"What makes you say that?" Ronnie, clear-eyed after his morning tub, looked across the breakfast-table.
"Well, sir," Moses Moffatt smiled deprecatingly, "if you don't mind my mentioning it, the missus and me heard you calling out in your sleep."
"Is that so? I'm sorry if I disturbed you."
Ronnie, remembering his dream only very vaguely66, ate his breakfast; skimmed through the "Morning Post"; took his top-hat, and sauntered downstairs into Jermyn Street.
It had not yet struck ten. Fishmongers were still swilling67 down their marbles. The usual early morning crowd had emerged into sunshine from the Piccadilly Tube. Ronnie swung past them down the Haymarket.
The asphalt of London, the cars, the buses, and the taxicabs seemed more than ever alien after the sea and the solitude68 of Chilworth Cove. He felt like a stranger in a strange, hostile city. Only as he emerged through Northumberland Avenue upon the Embankment did London seem home again; only as he turned leftward from the river into the Temple did there come over him the full realization69 of the issue at stake.
In his chambers70 at Pump Court nothing had altered. Tho other three barristers were, as usual, away; Benjamin Bunce, as usual, pottering among the foolscaps. The little clerk's watery71 eyes lit with curiosity at sight of the returning wanderer.
"There were papers," hinted Benjamin, "there was correspondence."
Benjamin's employer glanced at the taped documents on the table, at the unopened letters. "They can wait," he said. "Has Mr. Brunton's clerk inquired for my address?"
"No, sir."
"You're sure?"
"Quite sure, sir."
"Very good. I'll ring when I want you."
Ronnie hung his hat behind the door, and began striding up and down the book-shelved room. Here, he remembered, he had first tried to reason out his feelings for Aliette. Here, just before the Ellerson case, he had almost decided73 it his duty to give her up. And now, now--in fact if not in law--Aliette was actually his.
For a little while he dreamed of her, but soon the professional atmosphere of Pump Court infected him; and he began to see their case impersonally--as a "case." In law, unless Brunton acted, they had no remedy. His whole career, Aliette's whole happiness, their whole future lives depended on the clemency74 of Aliette's legal owner. Neither the old divorce-laws nor the proposed divorce-reforms could help them. Whatever wrongs Aliette might have suffered at her husband's hands in the past, she had forfeited75 those rights by running away; and only her husband could set her free. Would Brunton set her free? That was the whole issue. Best face it out of hand!
Ronnie pressed the bell on his desk, and the clerk popped through the door.
"Bunce, I want you to go over to Mr. Brunton's chambers. Ask Mr. Brunton's clerk if he can see me before he goes into court. You can say that it is on a private matter, and rather important."
Bunce--Ms curiosity satisfied--sidled out.
Waiting for Brunton's decision, Cavendish knew both curiosity and fear. Suppose Brunton refused even to discuss the matter?
And Brunton did refuse. The message Benjamin brought back was perfectly76 definite, perfectly courteous77. He, Benjamin, had seen Mr. Brunton's clerk, David Patterson, and Mr. Brunton had sent word by Mr. Patterson to say that he was very sorry not to be able to see Mr. Cavendish, but that he was extremely busy and would be busy all day.
"Funk!" thought Ronnie; and remembered suddenly how Brunton had avoided the war. Brunton's refusal to see him was sheer cowardice78. Rage kindled in his mind. For the flash of a second, he saw red. He would see Brunton. Damn it all, he would see him. How dared Brunton shelter behind a clerk! But it would be no use trying to force his way into Brunton's chambers. Brunton would be in court. Very well, then, he would wait for him; wait till the court adjourned80; wait, if necessary, all day.
"Won't you look through your letters, sir?" reminded Bunce.
Ronnie tried to look through his letters; tried to examine the few briefs which had come in during his absence. But his legal mind refused to concentrate. Between his mind and his correspondence, between his mind and his briefs, rage hung a scarlet81 and impenetrable curtain.
5
That morning, yet another legal brain refused to concentrate on its immediate business.
All through the long hours in the stuffy court-room, Hector Brunton, K.C., was conscious of the Furies. "Cavendish," whispered the Furies, "Cavendish has come back." He tried to dismiss the fellow from his mind, to attack the case in hand. But again and again the witnesses under cross-examination eluded82 him. Instead of the faces in the witness-box, he saw Cavendish's face--the face of his wife. And when--his cross-examinations concluded--the court adjourned for luncheon83, those two faces were still before his eyes, mocking him, mocking him.
"God's curse on them," he thought. "God's curse on both of them. I'll not see Cavendish. Let them lie in the bed they made for themselves. Let the adulterer and the adulteress rot together."
Angrily Brunton disrobed; angrily he left the law courts and made across Fleet Street toward King's Bench Walk. Even David Patterson, dour84, heavy-jowled as the K.C. himself; who followed, brief-bag slung85 over his shoulder, at a respectful distance; was awed86 at his employer's obvious fury.
The K.C. strode rapidly, his hands behind his back, his head lowered, down Middle Temple Lane, through Elm Court, through Fig5 Tree Court, into the big graveled square of the Walk, and diagonally across the Walk to his chambers.
Suddenly his head lifted. There, at the steps of his chambers, waiting for him, obviously waiting for him, stood Cavendish. For the fraction of a second Brunton, K.C., hesitated in his stride.
Ronnie, watching, saw that hesitation87; saw his man come on again, head low, eyes on the pavement; and knew instinctively88 that Brunton would pretend not to recognize him, would try to push past him up the stone stairway. Resolutely, he planted himself across the stairway; and in that one second of time before they met face to face, the vision he had seen in the darkness of overnight flashed through his mind. Then he had his enemy in front of him, and was saying quietly:
"I'd like a word with you, Brunton."
The K.C. tried to pass; but Ronnie stood his ground.
"I'm afraid I'm too busy to see you to-day, Cavendish." The voice sounded courteous enough; but a glance, a glance of insane rage, darted89 snake-like from behind the gray pupils. Brunton's great jowl twitched90; the veins92 on his forehead were steel cords.
"The matter is rather urgent." Ronnie, watching the approach of David Patterson, lowered his tone. "I sha'n't keep you a minute. Unless, of course," the tone rose, "you prefer that our discussion should take place in public."
The fire in his blue eyes beat down the snake in Brunton's gray; and, without another word, Ronnie accompanied his man up the stairway, along the corridor into his chambers.
David Patterson made as if to follow, but Brunton barked over one shoulder, "I sha'n't need you," and the two of them were alone.
"And now," began the K.C., standing43 foursquare in front of his empty fireplace, "I shall be glad to know the reason of this unwarrantable intrusion."
"You know the reason as well as I do." The red mist still hung before Ronnie's eyes. He had forgotten the "legal position": he wanted to strike Brunton; to strike him across the sneering93 face. Only the code, the public school code of restraint, held him back.
"I haven't the slightest idea why you should force your way into my chambers. Perhaps you will condescend94 to explain." Brunton, too, felt the code on him--heavy, like a net hampering95 his limbs. He wanted to free himself from the net; wanted to lash79 out at the man who had stolen Aliette, to destroy him.
"I came to ask you," Ronnie's lips hardly moved, "how much longer you intend to delay."
"Delay what?"
"Your petition."
"What petition?"
"Your petition for divorce."
"That's my business." Brunton laughed--a harsh, bitter laugh, low in the throat.
"And mine."
"I fail to see the connection."
Brunton laughed again. "No. Only for a thief."
With an effort, Ronnie thrust his hands into his pockets. "I didn't come here to bandy words with you. All I want to know is how soon you intend filing your petition."
"When I choose." Rage mastered Aliette's husband. "And if I don't choose--never."
Now Ronnie laughed--contemptuously. "You may be able to browbeat98 a woman in the box, but you can't browbeat me. I want an answer to my question. How soon do you intend to file your petition? This isn't only your business. It's mine--mine and----"
"Kindly99 keep my wife out of this discussion," snarled100 Brunton. "Your question is a damned insult, and your presence here an infernal outrage101. Neither you nor God Almighty102 can make me file the petition you refer to."
For a full minute the pair faced each other, tense, wordless, self-control fighting against instincts, instincts fighting against self-control. Then Brunton's nerve snapped.
"I hate the very sight of you," he shouted. "Will you get out? Or have I got to throw you out?"
"Don't make a fool of yourself," said Ronnie; and his voice was ice. "If it comes to violence I sha'n't be the one who'll get the worst of it."
"Answer my question, Brunton."
"I'll see you to hell first, Cavendish."
And suddenly the red mist thickened to blood-color before Ronnie's eyes. He wanted to kill Brunton. Killing104 would be the easiest way to deal with Brunton--far the easiest way. His hands clenched in his trouser-pockets; he itched91 to take his hands out of his pockets, to dash them in those cold gray eyes, to seize that heavy jowl, to tear the life out of it.
And then, in a flash, his legal mind saw the consequences of that killing. The blood-red mist vanished. Swiftly his mood changed. He began to plead, to plead desperately105, not for his own sake, but for Aliette's. He said:
"We're being selfish. It isn't of ourselves we have to think. Think of her position if you don't take action."
"She should have thought of my position before she ran away with you," retorted the other. "I tell you, I'm not going to be hustled106; and I'm not going to be bullied107. I'll take action when I choose; and not a minute before. Nothing that you, nothing that she, nothing that anybody else can do will persuade me to say one word further on this subject. Now, will you go?"
And Ronnie went, realizing himself powerless. As he passed through the doorway108 he gave one glance at his adversary109. His adversary still stood, like a bull at bay, against the empty grate; but the look in his adversary's eyes--a look which Ronnie could not fathom--was not the brave look of the bull; rather was it compound of fear and obstinacy110, of injured pride and of determination for revenge; the look of the weak man who knows himself in the wrong, yet means to persist in his wrongdoing.
Surely as night follows day in the firmament111, so surely does reaction follow action in imaginative man. Ronald Cavendish's mind, as he crossed King's Bench Walk after his interview with Hector Brunton, was almost a blank. Reaction wiped out every detail of that interview. He remembered only Brunton's words, "I'll take action when I choose."
Twice--the mad purpose of killing Brunton mastering him once more--he tried to turn back. But his feet carried him on, carried him away from Brunton, across the Walk to his own chambers. There, at least, was sanctuary--sanctuary from crime against the herd.
For the herd, even his dazed mind knew, would not countenance112 his killing Brunton. Brunton was within his herd-rights, within the law; while they, he and Aliette, having broken the herd-rights, were outlaws113. Still weak from reaction, he visioned the consequences of that outlawry114; visioned Brunton relentless115, Aliette without a friend.
Till gradually, thinking of Aliette, his manhood came back to him. Let Brunton do his damnedest. Let them be outlaws. Even in their outlawry they would possess one another. Soon, Brunton would be brought to reason. Meanwhile, even if he were not soon brought to reason, they, the outlaws, would find people to stand by them; people like his mother. And at that, abruptly116, Ronnie remembered the letter Aliette had written to her sister, the promise he had made to Jimmy.
Somehow it needed more courage than he had required in facing Aliette's husband to lift the telephone and make his appointment with Mollie!
6
Over a snack of luncheon--snatched late and hastily at a little uncomfortable coffee-shop near the Griffin--Ronnie's usual calm returned. He realized that he had made a fool of himself in going to see Brunton; that Jimmy, after all, had been right. Confound Brunton! Brunton's "dog-in-the-manger" attitude would not endure, could not endure. Even Carrington had given way in the long run. It was only a question of patience. Still, he would have to break things very gently to Aliette's sister.
Betty Masterman was out; and Mollie received her sister's lover alone in the little red-papered sitting-room which seemed so cozy117 to the Philistine118 mind of James Wilberforce.
"It's nice of you to call," she said perfunctorily. The voice might have been that of Aliette, of the socially poised119 Aliette as Ronnie first remembered her: but the girl's violet eyes were stern with suspicion; her red lips showed unsmiling, uncompromising.
"Won't you sit down?" she went on.
"Thanks. I sha'n't keep you very long." Always impossibly shy with women, the man did not know how to begin.
"You've got some message for me," the girl prompted "Some message from----"
"From your sister."
She seated herself, avoiding his eyes.
"Your sister and I," he began bruskly----
And in those four words--even without the halting explanation which followed--it seemed to Mollie Fullerford that she knew the whole story. But she was not going to help him out. Why should she? The story--carefully though he told it--revolted her. She felt hot; hot and dirty and ashamed. Hurt, too, as though the healed scars of her bodily wounds were opening afresh. All the suspicions of the past weeks, all her still-smoldering resentment120 that Aliette should have let her return unwarned to Hector's house, all her balked121 love for James Wilberforce, harshened Mollie's judgment. She saw Cavendish no longer a "sober-sides" but a hypocrite; and so seeing, hated him for his imagined hypocrisy122.
"You see," he concluded, "it wasn't Aliette's fault. I mean the running away in a hurry. You mustn't condemn123 her. I was to blame for that. I was to blame, from beginning to end."
"Of course," said that Mollie who had once thought "most women rotters." "It's always the man who's to blame."
Nevertheless her judgment softened124. "After all," she thought, "he isn't beating about the bush. He's being perfectly straight with me." And she discovered to her great surprise that it was not their having run away together which had been hurting her, but their omission125 to take her into their confidence.
Ronnie, trying to guess the verdict behind those averted126 eyes, drew Aliette's letter from his pocket; and handed it over without another word. Watching her open the envelope, watching her as she read, he saw her fingers tremble, her violet eyes suffuse127.
"And have you seen Hector?" she asked at last.
"Yes. I saw him this morning."
"What did he say?"
"Of course he's going to divorce her."
"I'm afraid, Miss Fullerford, that it's not going to be quite so easy as that."
"You don't mean to say that he isn't going to----?"
"He says he hasn't made up his mind----"
"But"--the girl was stammering129 now--"that's absolutely caddish. Hector's a gentleman. Alie's been perfectly straight with him. Besides, even if he had been badly treated, he couldn't, couldn't possibly----"
And suddenly the full possibilities of Hector's persisting in a refusal to take action grew visible to the girl's mind. She braced130 herself to meet those possibilities; the personal consequences of them. She forced herself to ask:
"Have you seen Mr. Wilberforce?"
"Yes. Last night."
"Did you ask his advice?"
"Yes."
"What was it?"
"To do nothing. To wait."
At that, thought of her own love affair obsessed131 the girl's mind. She visualized James, there, in the very chair which Cavendish occupied. Remembering a thousand unspoken hesitancies of James, she saw only too clearly the reason of those hesitancies.
"How long has Mr. Wilberforce known about--about you and my sister?"
"Some weeks, I believe."
"You're sure?" The wounds hurt again, hurt desperately. James ought to have told her. "He never said a word--to me." She could have borne it better from James than from Cavendish.
"Of course he couldn't tell you anything about it, Miss Fullerford. It was a secret, a professional secret. My mother told him----"
"Your mother?"
"Yes, my mother. She's with Aliette now." His voice softened. "She's on our side. You'll be on our side, too? Won't you? You won't let this--this contretemps come between you and your sister? I'm not asking anything for myself--but it's pretty rough luck on Alie."
Mollie's decision crystallized. "I can't go back on Alie," she thought. "Whatever happens I mustn't go back on Alie." She remembered their conversation at Moor132 Park; remembered herself saying, "I don't believe divorce is wrong."
"Yes," she said, and held out her hand. "I shall stand by Alie whatever happens. Will you tell her that? And say I'll write in a day or two. I don't feel like--like writing to her at the moment."
Ronnie clasped her hand, and rose to go. He would have liked to thank her; he would have liked to say something more about Jimmy. But instinct restrained him. Perhaps, after all, she didn't care for Jimmy; perhaps the pallor of her cheeks, the drooped133 corners of her full red mouth were all for Alie.
7
And next day Ronald Cavendish went back to Chilworth Cove. All the long train journey he was aware, growingly aware, of Aliette. Brunton and the herd, Wilberforce and Mollie receded134 into the background of his thoughts. He said to himself:
"Let Brunton do his worst. Aliette and I have our love, each other."
Love, all said and done, was the only issue. As for Brunton, they would face him together, face him with courage high and hearts unflinching. Courage! Courage and love! Weaponed with those two defenses, he and his mate, his mother at their side, could battle down the onslaught of any disaster.
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cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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visualized
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| 直观的，直视的 | |
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4
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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5
fig
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| n.无花果(树) | |
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6
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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7
scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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8
prerogative
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| n.特权 | |
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9
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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10
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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11
ascertain
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| vt.发现，确定，查明，弄清 | |
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12
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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13
publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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14
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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16
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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17
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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18
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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19
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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20
unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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21
ascetic
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| adj.禁欲的；严肃的 | |
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22
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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23
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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24
somnolent
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| adj.想睡的，催眠的；adv.瞌睡地；昏昏欲睡地；使人瞌睡地 | |
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25
infringe
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| v.违反，触犯，侵害 | |
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26
constraint
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| n.(on)约束，限制；限制(或约束)性的事物 | |
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27
stuffy
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| adj.不透气的，闷热的 | |
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28
tawny
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| adj.茶色的，黄褐色的；n.黄褐色 | |
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29
scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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31
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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32
recurring
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| adj.往复的，再次发生的 | |
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33
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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34
defensive
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| adj.防御的；防卫的；防守的 | |
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35
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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36
aggrieved
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| adj.愤愤不平的，受委屈的；悲痛的；（在合法权利方面）受侵害的v.令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式)；令委屈，令苦恼，侵害( aggrieve的过去式和过去分词) | |
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37
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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38
solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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39
blandness
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| n.温柔，爽快 | |
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40
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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41
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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42
unreasonably
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| adv. 不合理地 | |
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43
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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44
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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45
reticence
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| n.沉默，含蓄 | |
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46
decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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47
orator
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| n.演说者，演讲者，雄辩家 | |
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48
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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49
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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50
plucky
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| adj.勇敢的 | |
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51
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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52
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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53
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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54
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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55
intruding
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| v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的现在分词)；把…强加于 | |
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56
bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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57
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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58
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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59
capered
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| v.跳跃，雀跃( caper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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61
hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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62
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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63
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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64
twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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65
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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66
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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67
swilling
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| v.冲洗( swill的现在分词 )；猛喝；大口喝；（使）液体流动 | |
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68
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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69
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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70
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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71
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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72
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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73
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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74
clemency
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| n.温和，仁慈，宽厚 | |
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75
forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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76
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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77
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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78
cowardice
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| n.胆小，怯懦 | |
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79
lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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80
adjourned
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| （使）休会， （使）休庭( adjourn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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82
eluded
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| v.（尤指机敏地）避开( elude的过去式和过去分词 )；逃避；躲避；使达不到 | |
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83
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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84
dour
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| adj.冷酷的，严厉的；（岩石）嶙峋的；顽强不屈 | |
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85
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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86
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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87
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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88
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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89
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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90
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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91
itched
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| v.发痒( itch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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92
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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93
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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94
condescend
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| v.俯就，屈尊；堕落，丢丑 | |
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95
hampering
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的现在分词 ) | |
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96
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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98
browbeat
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| v.欺侮；吓唬 | |
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99
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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100
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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101
outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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102
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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103
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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104
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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105
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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106
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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107
bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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108
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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109
adversary
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| adj.敌手，对手 | |
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110
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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111
firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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112
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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113
outlaws
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| 歹徒，亡命之徒( outlaw的名词复数 )； 逃犯 | |
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114
outlawry
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| 宣布非法，非法化，放逐 | |
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115
relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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116
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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117
cozy
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| adj.亲如手足的，密切的，暖和舒服的 | |
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118
philistine
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| n.庸俗的人；adj.市侩的，庸俗的 | |
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119
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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120
resentment
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| n.怨愤，忿恨 | |
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121
balked
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| v.畏缩不前，犹豫( balk的过去式和过去分词 )；（指马）不肯跑 | |
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122
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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123
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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124
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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125
omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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126
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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127
suffuse
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| v.(色彩等)弥漫，染遍 | |
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128
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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129
stammering
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的现在分词 ) | |
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130
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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131
obsessed
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| adj.心神不宁的,鬼迷心窍的,沉迷的 | |
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132
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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133
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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134
receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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