England -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
Before he went to sleep that night he resolved that at their next
meeting he would lead the conversation to a frank discussion of their
relations and "have it out with her." But when he called at Carteret
Street two days later, he found it quite impossible to do any such
thing. She was light-hearted and gay, and evidently looked forward to
the change of life with pleasure. She named the day of departure, and
mentioned that she had arranged to take Lottie with her. She consulted
him about a compromise, already effected, with her landlord as to the
remainder of the tenancy, and said she had sold the furniture as it
stood, for a very small sum, to a dealer. It hurt him to think that she
had given him no opportunity of actively assisting her in the hundred
little matters of business involved in a change of hemisphere. What had
become of her feminine reliance upon him?
He felt as if some object was rapidly approaching to collide with and
crush him, and he was powerless to hinder it.
Three days, two days, one day more!
CHAPTER XXV
The special train for Southampton, drawn up against the main-line
platform at Waterloo, seemed to have resigned itself with an almost
animal passivity to the onslaught of the crowd of well-dressed men and
women who were boarding it. From the engine a thin column of steam
rose lazily to the angular roof, where a few sparrows fluttered with
sudden swoops and short flights. The engine-driver leaned against the
side of the cab, stroking his beard; the stoker was trimming coal
on the tender. Those two knew the spectacle by heart: the scattered
piles of steamer trunks amidst which passengers hurried hither and
thither with no apparent object; the continual purposeless opening and
shutting of carriage doors; the deferential gestures of the glittering
guard as he bent an ear to ladies whose footmen stood respectfully
behind them; the swift movements of the bookstall clerk selling
papers, and the meditative look of the bookstall manager as he swept
his hand along the shelf of new novels and selected a volume which he
could thoroughly recommend to the customer in the fur coat; the long
colloquies between husbands and wives, sons and mothers, daughters and
fathers, fathers and sons, lovers and lovers, punctuated sometimes
by the fluttering of a handkerchief, or the placing of a hand on a
shoulder; the unconcealed agitation of most and the carefully studied
calm of a few; the grimaces of porters when passengers had turned away;
the slow absorption by _their_ train of all the luggage and nearly all
the people; the creeping of the clock towards the hour; the kisses;
the tears; the lowering of the signal,--to them it was no more than a
common street-scene.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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