London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
'She's to see Lady Conroy tomorrow, you know,' Edith said, divining an
anxiety or annoyance in Aylmer on the subject.
'Yes. Will it be all right?'
'Oh yes.'
'Well, Teddy's going back on Monday anyway, and I certainly don't need a
nurse any more. Headley will do all I want.'
Headley was the old butler.
'What scent do you use, Edith?'
'I hardly ever use any. I don't care for scent.'
'But lately you have,' he insisted. 'What is it? I think I like it.'
'It's got a silly name. It's called Omar Khayyam.'
'I thought it was Oriental. I think you're Oriental, Edith. Though
you're so fair and English-looking. How do you account for it?'
'I can't think,' said Edith.
'Perhaps you're a fair Circassian,' said he. 'Do you think yourself
you're Oriental?'
'I believe I am, in some ways. I like lying down on cushions. I like
cigarettes, and scent, and flowers. I hate wine, and exercise, and
cricket, and bridge.'
'That isn't all that's needed. You wouldn't care for life in a harem,
would you?' He laughed. 'You with your independent mind and your
cleverness.'
'Perhaps not exactly, but I can imagine worse things.'
'I shall take you to Egypt,' he said. 'You've never been there, have
you?'
'Never.' Her eyes sparkled.
'Yes, I shall take you to see the Sphinx. For the first time.'
'Oh, you can't. You're looking very well, Aylmer, wonderfully better.'
'I wonder why? You don't think I'm happy, do you?'
'I am,' said Edith.
'Because you're a woman. You live for the moment. I'm anxious about the
future.'
'Oh, oh! You're quite wrong. It's not women who live for the moment,'
said Edith.
'No, I don't know that the average woman does. But then you're not an
average woman.'
'What am I?'
'You're Edith,' he answered, rather fatuously. But she liked it. She
moved away.
'Now that's awfully mean of you, taking advantage of my wounded limb.'
She rang for tea.
'And that's even meaner. It's treacherous,' he said, laughing.
She sat down on a chair at a little distance.
'Angel!' he said, in a low, distinct voice.
'It is not for me to dictate,' said Edith, in a tone of command, 'but I
should think it more sensible of you not to say these things to
me--just now.'
The servant came in with tea.
CHAPTER XXIV
Just before Archie went back to school he made a remark that impressed
Edith strangely. Quite dressed and ready to start, as he was putting on
his gloves, he fell into one of his reveries. After being silent for
some time he said:
'Mother!'
'Yes, darling?'
'Why doesn't father fight?'
'I told you before, darling. Your father is not very strong.'
'Mother!'
'Yes, dear?'
'Is Aylmer older than father?'
'Yes. Aylmer's four years older. Why?'
'I don't know. I wish I had a father who could fight, like Aylmer. And
I'd like to fight too, like Teddy.'
'Aylmer hasn't any wife and children to leave. Teddy's eighteen; you're
only ten.'
'Mother!'
'Yes, dear?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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