"That's right; then _I_ shan't have to. You'll tell me about it." He
uttered this without believing she had meant or wished to read the
article, which was entitled "The Revision of the British Constitution,"
in spite of her having encumbered herself with the stiff, fresh
magazine. He was deeply aware she was not in want of such inward
occupation as periodical literature could supply. They walked along and
he added: "But is that what we're in for, reading Mr. Hoppus? Is it the
sort of thing constituents expect? Or, even worse, pretending to have
read him when one hasn't? Oh what a tangled web we weave!"
"People are talking about it. One has to know. It's the article of the
month."
Nick looked at her askance. "You say things every now and then for which
I could really kill you. 'The article of the month,' for instance: I
could kill you for that."
"Well, kill me!" Mrs. Dallow returned.
"Let me carry your book," he went on irrelevantly. The hand in which she
held it was on the side of her on which he was walking, and he put out
his own hand to take it. But for a couple of minutes she forbore to give
it up, so that they held it together, swinging it a little. Before she
surrendered it he asked where she was going.
"To the island," she answered.
"Well, I'll go with you--and I'll kill you there."
"The things I say are the right things," Julia declared.
"It's just the right things that are wrong. It's because you're so
political," Nick too lightly explained. "It's your horrible ambition.
The woman who has a salon should have read the article of the month. See
how one dreadful thing leads to another."
"There are some things that lead to nothing," said Mrs. Dallow.
"No doubt--no doubt. And how are you going to get over to your island?"
"I don't know."
"Isn't there a boat?"
"I don't know."
Nick had paused to look round for the boat, but his hostess walked on
without turning her head. "Can you row?" he then asked.
"Don't you know I can do everything?"
"Yes, to be sure. That's why I want to kill you. There's the boat."
"Shall you drown me?" she asked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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