Man-woman relationships -- England -- Fiction; Married people -- England -- Fiction; Psychological fiction
We thought, accordingly--we continued to think, and I felt that, by the
law of the occasion, there had as yet been for everyone no such
sovereign warrant for an interest in the private affairs of everyone
else. As a result of this influence all that at dinner had begun to fade
away from me came back with a rush and hovered there with a vividness. I
followed many trains and put together many pieces; but perhaps what I
most did was to render a fresh justice to the marvel of our civilised
state. The perfection of that, enjoyed as we enjoyed it, all made a
margin, a series of concentric circles of rose-colour (shimmering away
into the pleasant vague of everything else that didn't matter,) for the
so salient little figure of Mrs. Server, still the controlling image for
me, the real principle of composition, in this affluence of fine things.
What, for my part, while I listened, I most made out was the beauty and
the terror of conditions so highly organised that under their rule her
small lonely fight with disintegration could go on without the betrayal
of a gasp or a shriek, and with no worse tell-tale contortion of lip or
brow than the vibration, on its golden stem, of that constantly renewed
flower of amenity which my observation had so often and so mercilessly
detached only to find again in its place. This flower nodded perceptibly
enough in our deeply stirred air, but there was a peace, none the less,
in feeling the spirit of the wearer to be temporarily at rest. There was
for the time no gentleman on whom she need pounce, no lapse against
which she need guard, no presumption she need create, nor any suspicion
she need destroy. In this pause in her career it came over me that I
should have liked to leave her; it would have prepared for me the
pleasant after-consciousness that I had seen her pass, as I might say,
in music out of sight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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