Cornwall (England : County) -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Vacations -- Fiction
It wasn’t like her, and short though it was he felt sure that somebody
had watched her whilst she did it. And “we”? For whom did that stand? He
had felt so sure in his heart of hearts that no one except Janet would
come that he was, at first, bitterly disappointed. What a farce the
whole thing would be if anyone else were there! He laughed sarcastically
at the picture of Miss Minns perched horribly awry at the end of the
boat, forcing, by her mere presence, the conversation into a miserable
stern artificiality. And then suppose it were Morelli? But it wouldn’t
be, of that he was sure; Morelli had other things to do.
He glanced for a moment up to the cliff where Punch was. He didn’t want
the whole town to know what he was about. Punch could keep a secret, of
course, he had kept a good many in his time, but it might slip out; not
that there was anything to be ashamed of.
As a matter of fact, he had had some difficulty in getting away from the
hotel; they had been about him like bees, wanting him to do things. He
had noticed, too, that his mother was anxious. Since the day of the
picnic she had watched him, followed him with her eyes, had evidently
longed to ask him what he was going to do. That, he knew, was her code,
that she should ask him nothing and should wait; but he felt that she
was finding the waiting very difficult. He was quite sure in his own
mind that Alice had spoken to her, and, although he would give
everything in the world to be pleasant and easy, he found, in spite of
himself, that he was, when he talked to her, awkward and strained. There
was something new and strange in her attitude to him, so that the old
cameraderie was quite hopelessly gone, and the most ordinary
conventional remark about the weather became charged with intensest
meaning. This all contrived to make things at the hotel very awkward,
and everyone was in that state of tension which forced them to see
hidden mysteries in everything that happened or was said. The Lesters
had been barely on speaking terms at breakfast time and Maradick hadn’t
appeared at all.
Then, when the afternoon had come, his mother had asked him to come out
with them. He had had to refuse, and had only been able to give the
vaguest of reasons. They knew that he was not going with Mr. Maradick,
because he had promised to walk with Mr. Lester. What was he going to
do? He spoke of friends in the town and going for a row. It had all been
very unpleasant. Life was, in fact, becoming immensely complicated, and
if Miss Minns were to appear he would have all this worry and trouble
for nothing.
He gazed furiously at the hard white road. The pool shone like a mirror;
the road, the poplar, the sky were painted on its surface in hard vivid
outline. Suddenly a figure was reflected in it. Some one in a white
dress with a large white hat, her reflexion spread across the length of
the pool. The water caught a mass of golden hair and held it for a
moment, then it was gone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account