Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Sisters -- Fiction
By this time the moon was silvering the river, riding high above the
earth, serenely a thing of eternal mystery to her beholders. With the
passing of clouds and the deepening of the night, those stars not
eclipsed by the moon shone like swarmed throbbing points of silver. They
seemed more remote, as though the clearer air had driven them farther
off. Jenny, her own face and throat illumined, stared up at the moon,
marvelling; and then she turned, without speaking, to the black shadows
and the gliding, silent water. Upon every hand was the chequer of
contrast, beautiful to the eye, and haunting to the spirit. A soft wind
stirred her hair and made her bare her teeth in pleasure at the sweet
contact.
Keith led her to the wide wooden seat which ran by the side of the deck,
and they sat together there. The noise of the city was dimmer; the lamps
were yellowed in the moon's whiter light; there were occasional
movements upon the face of the river. A long way away they heard a sharp
panting as a motor boat rushed through the water, sending out a great
surging wave that made all other craft rise and fall and sway as the
river's agitation subsided. The boat came nearer, a coloured light
showing; and presently it hastened past, a moving thing with a muffled
figure at its helm; and the _Minerva_ rocked gently almost until the
sound of the motor boat's tuff-tuff had been lost in the general noise
of London. Nearer at hand, above them, Jenny could hear the clanging of
tram-gongs and the clatter and slow boom of motor omnibuses; but these
sounds were mellowed by the evening, and although they were near enough
to be comforting they were too far away to interrupt this pleasant
solitude with Keith. The two of them sat in the shadow, and Jenny craned
to hear the chuckle of the water against the yacht's sides. It was a
beautiful moment in her life.... She gave a little moan, and swayed
against Keith, her delight succeeded by deadly languor.
iv
So for a moment they sat, Keith's arm around her shoulders; and then
Jenny moved so as to free herself. She was restless and unhappy again,
her nerves on edge. The moon and the water, which had soothed her, were
now an irritation. Keith heard her breath come and go, quickly, heavily.
"Sorry, Jenny," he said, in a tone of puzzled apology. She caught his
fallen hand, pressing it eagerly.
"It's nothing. Only that minute. Like somebody walking on my grave."
"You're cold. We'll go down to the cabin again." He was again cool and
unembarrassed. Together they stood upon the deck in the moonlight, while
the water flowed rapidly beneath them and the night's mystery emphasised
their remoteness from the rest of the world. They had no part, at this
moment, in the general life; but were solitary, living only to
themselves....
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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