"One day, a privileged friend put bluntly to him this question: 'Are you
playing for love or vanity?'
"To which the man, after long pondering, gave this reply: ''Pon my soul,
Jack, I couldn't tell you.'
"Now, when a man is in love with a woman who cannot make up her mind
whether she loves him or not, we call the complication comedy; where it
is the woman who is in earnest the result is generally tragedy.
"They continued to meet and to make love. They talked--as people in
their position are prone to talk--of the beautiful life they would lead
if it only were not for the thing that was; of the earthly paradise--or,
maybe, 'earthy' would be the more suitable adjective--they would each
create for the other, if only they had the right which they hadn't.
"In this work of imagination the man trusted chiefly to his literary
faculties, which were considerable; the woman to her desires. Thus, his
scenes possessed a grace and finish which hers lacked, but her pictures
were the more vivid. Indeed, so realistic did she paint them, that to
herself they seemed realities, waiting for her. Then she would rise to
go towards them only to strike herself against the thought of the thing
that stood between her and them. At first she only hated the thing, but
after a while there came an ugly look of hope into her eyes.
"The time drew near for the man to return to England. The canal was
completed, and a day appointed for the letting in of the water. The man
determined to make the event the occasion of a social gathering. He
invited a large number of guests, among whom were the woman and her
husband, to assist at the function. Afterwards the party were to picnic
at a pleasant wooded spot some three-quarters of a mile from the first
lock.
"The ceremony of flooding was to be performed by the woman, her husband's
position entitling her to this distinction. Between the river and the
head of the cutting had been left a strong bank of earth, pierced some
distance down by a hole, which hole was kept closed by means of a closely-
fitting steel plate. The woman drew the lever releasing this plate, and
the water rushed through and began to press against the lock gates. When
it had attained a certain depth, the sluices were raised, and the water
poured down into the deep basin of the lock.
"It was an exceptionally deep lock. The party gathered round and watched
the water slowly rising. The woman looked down, and shuddered; the man
was standing by her side.
"'How deep it is,' she said.
"'Yes,' he replied, 'it holds thirty feet of water, when full.'
"The water crept up inch by inch.
"'Why don't you open the gates, and let it in quickly?' she asked.
"'It would not do for it to come in too quickly,' he explained; 'we shall
half fill this lock, and then open the sluices at the other end, and so
let the water pass through.'
"The woman looked at the smooth stone walls and at the iron-plated gates.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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