"They'll never do that!" she exclaimed, and laughed as she saw the queer
raising of his brows.
Theresa was unreasonably angered by these pleasantries. She wanted to
tell Alexander he was not funny at all, that she could be much funnier
herself; but he had returned to his reading with so little apparent
satisfaction in his mild joke that she forgave him. Moreover, she liked
the way his head rose from his neck, and the line of his chin; he had a
manner of touching books that pleased her, and on small likes and
dislikes Theresa could hang a serious mood.
A little later, with the dogs leaping round them, they set out together
by the front door of the house, and Theresa turned among the larches to
wave farewell to Janet, who stood looking after them with her strange
passivity.
But to-day, below the quiet of her face, she was feeling all the tragedy
of her lost youth and her empty arms. These she folded across her breast
and pressed heavily against her heart to still the pain, and, in the
trouble of a mother who has had no lover but her son, she saw the
shadows drop back into their places as the two figures passed through
and on. And she stood there, rigid, with the hurt smile on her lips,
until the dogs came back and lay down at her feet, with lolling tongues.
* * * * *
Alexander led Theresa to a broad green path which they could see curving
far before them.
"Have we to walk on this all the way?" she asked.
"You need not. It's quickest in the end."
"But it's simply crying out for our obedience! Don't let us obey. Take
me the long short cut."
"Well, if you like walking on the sides of your feet----"
"Better than walking in other people's footsteps."
"I like to tread where other men have been," he said quietly. "It links
me to them."
"Links? Chains! I want to be free."
Amused, he looked down at her. "But you can't be, you know."
"But I am!"
"You'll find someone tugging at the other end one day."
Turning her palms up and down, she showed him her unshackled wrists.
"There's nothing there."
"Well, lead on, then. Straight for the gap."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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