England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Social aspects -- England -- Fiction
But Mrs. Duchemin's outbreak of a week ago had driven the old phantoms
across her mind. For Mrs. Duchemin she had still had a great respect.
She could not regard her Edith Ethel as merely a hypocrite; or, indeed,
as a hypocrite at all. There was her great achievement of making
something like a man of that miserable little creature--as there had
been her other great achievement of keeping her unfortunate husband for
so long out of a lunatic asylum. That had been no mean feat; neither
feat had been mean. And Valentine knew that Edith Ethel really loved
beauty, circumspection, urbanity. It was no hypocrisy that made her
advocate the Atalanta race of chastity. But, also, as Valentine Wannop
saw it, humanity has these doublings of strong natures; just as the
urbane and grave Spanish nation must find its outlet in the shrieking
lusts of the bull-ring or the circumspect, laborious and admirable city
typist must find her derivative in the cruder lusts of certain
novelists, so Edith Ethel must break down into physical sexualities--and
into shrieked coarseness of fishwives. How else, indeed, do we have
saints? Surely, alone, by the ultimate victory of the one tendency over
the other!
But now after her farewell scene with Edith Ethel a simple
re-arrangement of the pattern had brought many of the old doubts at
least temporarily back. Valentine said to herself that, just because of
the very strength of her character, Edith Ethel couldn't have been
brought down to uttering her fantastic denunciation of Tietjens, the
merely mad charges of debauchery and excesses and finally the sexually
lunatic charge against herself, except under the sting of some such
passion as jealousy. She, Valentine, couldn't arrive at any other
conclusion. And, viewing the matter as she believed she now did, more
composedly, she considered with seriousness that, men being what they
are, her lover respecting, or despairing of, herself had relieved the
grosser necessities of his being--at the expense of Mrs. Duchemin, who
had, no doubt, been only too ready.
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