'I say, I say,' he rejoined, 'you _are_ a wilful one! What do you want
to threaten me for? Don't you know me well enough to know that ain't the
way? That's the tone Selina used to take. Surely you don't want to begin
and imitate her!' She only sat there, looking at him, while he leaned
against the chimney-piece smoking a short cigar. There was a silence,
during which she felt the heat of a certain irrational anger at the
thought that a little ignorant, red-faced jockey should have the luck to
be in the right as against her flesh and blood. She considered him
helplessly, with something in her eyes that had never been there
before--something that, apparently, after a moment, made an impression
on him. Afterwards, however, she saw very well that it was not her
threat that had moved him, and even at the moment she had a sense, from
the way he looked back at her, that this was in no manner the first time
a baffled woman had told him that she would kill herself. He had always
accepted his kinship with her, but even in her trouble it was part of
her consciousness that he now lumped her with a mixed group of female
figures, a little wavering and dim, who were associated in his memory
with 'scenes,' with importunities and bothers. It is apt to be the
disadvantage of women, on occasions of measuring their strength with
men, that they may perceive that the man has a larger experience and
that they themselves are a part of it. It is doubtless as a provision
against such emergencies that nature has opened to them operations of
the mind that are independent of experience. Laura felt the dishonour of
her race the more that her brother-in-law seemed so gay and bright about
it: he had an air of positive prosperity, as if his misfortune had
turned into that. It came to her that he really liked the idea of the
public _eclaircissement_--the fresh occupation, the bustle and
importance and celebrity of it. That was sufficiently incredible, but as
she was on the wrong side it was also humiliating. Besides, higher
spirits always suggest finer wisdom, and such an attribute on Lionel's
part was most humiliating of all. 'I haven't the least objection at
present to telling you what you want to know. I shall have made my
little arrangements very soon and you will be subpoenaed.'
'Subpoenaed?' the girl repeated, mechanically.
'You will be called as a witness on my side.'
'On your side.'
'Of course you're on my side, ain't you?'
'Can they force me to come?' asked Laura, in answer to this.
'No, they can't force you, if you leave the country.'
'That's exactly what I want to do.'
'That will be idiotic,' said Lionel, 'and very bad for your sister. If
you don't help me you ought at least to help her.'
She sat a moment with her eyes on the ground. 'Where is she--where is
she?' she then asked.
'They are at Brussels, at the Hotel de Flandres. They appear to like it
very much.'
'Are you telling me the truth?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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