With a sigh she faded to him: with a sigh the dog sat down by his
master's neglected stick: with a sigh the April wind stole through the
thickets of gorse and out over the down. And always more and more
dauntlessly the larks flung before them their fountainous notes to
pierce those blue spaces that burned between the clouds. No more was
said of the past that morning, and with April come they were happy
sitting up there, although, as Guy said, such weather could hardly be
expected to last. And since this walk was a great exception to the rule
of their life, they were back at the Rectory very punctually, so that by
propitiating everybody with good behaviour they might soon demand
another exception.
That night there recurred to Pauline when she was in her room a sudden
memory of what Guy had said to her about girls with whom he had had
love-affairs; and with the stark forms of shadows they made a procession
across her walls in the candlelight. She wished now she had let Guy tell
her more, so that she could give distinguishing lineaments of humanity
to each of these maddening figures. What were they like and why, taken
unaware, was she set on fire with rage to know them? For a long while
Pauline tossed sleeplessly on that bed to which usually morning came so
soon; and even when the candle was put out, she seemed to feel these
forms of Guy's confession all about her. To-morrow she must see him
again; she could no longer bear to think of him alone. These shapes that
from his past vaguely jeered at her were to him endowed, each, with what
memories. Oh, she could cry out with exasperation even in this silent
house where she had lived so long unvexed.
"What is happening to me? What is happening to me?" asked Pauline, as
the darkness drew nearer to her. "Why doesn't Margaret come?"
She jumped out of bed and ran trembling to her sister's room.
"Pauline, what is it?" asked Margaret starting up.
"I'm frightened, Margaret. I'm frightened. My room seemed full of
people."
"You goose. What people?"
"Oh, Margaret, I do love you."
She kissed her sister passionately; and Margaret, who was usually so
lazy, got out of bed and came back with her to her room; where she read
aloud Alice in Wonderland, sitting by the bed with her dark hair fallen
about her slim shoulders.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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