CHAPTER IV
Seymour Sturgis (who, Berts thought, ought to have been drowned when hewas a girl) was employed one morning in July in dusting his jade. Helived in a small flat just off Langham Place, with a large, capable,middle-aged Frenchwoman, who worshiped the ground on which he sodelicately trod with the cloth-topped boots which she made soresplendent. She cooked for him in the inimitable manner of her race,she kept his flat speckless and shining, she valeted him, she dideverything in fact except dust the jade. Highly as Seymour thought ofAntoinette he could not let her do that. He always alluded to her as "mymaid," and used to take her with him, as valet, to country-houses. Itmust, however, be added that he did this largely to annoy, and helargely succeeded.
The room which was adorned by his collection of jade, seemed somehowstrangely unlike a man's room. A French writing-table stood in thewindow with a writing-case and blotting-book stamped with his initialsin gilt; by the pen-tray was a smelling-bottle with a gold screw-top toit. Thin lace blinds hung across the windows, and the carpet was ofthick fawn-colored fabric with remarkably good Persian rugs laid downover it. On the chimney-piece was a Louis Seize garniture of clock andcandlesticks, and a quantity of invitation cards were stuck into themirror behind. There were half-a-dozen French chairs, a sofa, ababy-grand, a small table or two, and a book-case of volumes all inmorocco dress-clothes. On the walls there were a few prints, and inglazed cabinets against the wall was the jade. Nothing, except perhapsthe smelling-bottle, suggested a mistress rather than a master, but thewhole effect was feminine. Seymour rather liked that: he had very littleliking for his own sex. They seemed to him both clumsy and stupid, andhis worst enemies (of whom he had plenty) could not accuse him of beingeither the one or the other. On their side they disliked him because hewas not like a man: he disliked them because they were.
But while he detested his own sex, he did not regard the other with theordinary feeling of a man. He liked their dresses, their perfumes, theirhair, their femininity, more than he liked them. He was quite ascharming to plain old ladies, even as Dodo had said, as he was to girls,and he was perfectly happy, when staying in the country, to go a motordrive with aunts and grandmothers. He had a perfectly marvelousdigestion; ate a huge lunch, sat still in the motor all afternoon, andhad quantities of buttered buns for tea. He dressed rather too carefullyto be really well-dressed and always wore a tie and socks of the samecolor, which repeated in a more vivid shade the tone of his clothes. Hehad a large ruby ring, a sapphire ring and an emerald ring: they wereworn singly and matched his clothes. He spoke French quite perfectly.
All these depressing traits naturally enraged such men as came incontact with him, but though they abhorred him they could not openlylaugh at him, for he had a tongue, when he chose, of quite unparalleledacidity, and was markedly capable of using it when required and takingcare of himself afterwards. In matters of art, he had a taste that wasfaultless, and his taste was founded on real knowledge and technique, sothat really great singers delighted to perform to his accompaniment, andin matters of jewelry he designed for Cartier. In fact, from the pointof view of his own sex, he was detestable rather than ridiculous, whileconsiderable numbers of the other sex did their very best to spoil him,for none could want a more amusing companion, and his good looks werequite undeniable. But somewhere in his nature there was a certain gritwhich quite refused to be ground into the pulp of a spoiled young man.In his slender frame, too, there were nerves of steel, and, most amazingof all, when not better employed in designing for Cartier, or engaged inbloodless flirtations, he was a first-class golfer. But he preferred togo for a drive in the afternoon, and smoke a succession of rose-scentedcigarettes, which could scarcely be considered tobacco at all. He wasfond of food, and drank a good many glasses of port rather petulantly,after dinner, as if they were medicine.
This morning he was particularly anxious that his jade should show toadvantage, for Nadine was coming to lunch with him, to ask his adviceabout something which she thought was old Venetian-point lace. He hadtaken particular pains also about the lunch: everything was to be _encasserole_; there were eggs in spinach, and quails, and a marvelouscasseroled cherry tart. He could not bear that anything about him,whether designed for the inside or the outside, should be other thanexquisite, and he would have been just as sedulous a Martha, if thatstrange barbarian called Berts was coming, only he would have givenBerts an immense beefsteak as well.
The bell of his flat tinkled announcing Nadine. He did not like theshrill treble bells, and had got one that made a low bubbling note likethe laugh of Sir Charles Wyndham; and Nadine came in.
"Enchanted!" he said. "How is Philistia?"
"Not being the least glad of you," she said. "I wish I could make peopledetest me, as Berts detests you. It shows force of character. Oh,Seymour, what jade! It is almost shameless! Isn't it shameless jade Imean? Is any one else coming to lunch?"
"Of course not. I don't dilute you with other people; I prefer Nadineneat. Now let's have the crisis at once. Bring out the lace."
Nadine produced a small parcel and unfolded it.
"Pretty," said he.
Then he looked at it more closely, and tossed it aside. "I hoped it wasmore like Venetian point than that," he said. "It's all quite wrong:the thread's wrong: the stitch is wrong: it smells wrong. Don't tell meyou've bought it."
"No, I shan't tell you," she said.
He took it up again and pondered.
"You got it at Ducane's," he said. "I remember seeing it. Well, take itback to Ducane, and tell him if he sold it as Venetian, that he mustgive you back your money. My dear, it is no wonder that these dealersget rich, if they can palm off things like that. _C'est fini._--Ah, butthat is an exquisite aquamarine you are wearing. Those little diamondpoints round it throw the light into it. How odd people usually areabout jewelry. They think great buns of diamonds are sufficient to makean adornment. You might as well send up an ox's hind-leg on the table.What makes the difference is the manner of its presentation. Who is thatlady who employs herself in writing passionate love-novels? She says onpage one that he was madly in love with her, on page two that she wasmadly in love with him, on page three that they were madly in love witheach other, and then come some asterisks. (How much more artistic, bythe way, if they printed the asterisks and left out the rest! Then weshould know what it really was like.) You can appreciate nothing untilit is framed or cooked: then you can see the details. The poor ladypresents us with chunks of meat and informs us that they are amorous menand women. I will write a novel some day, from the detached standpoint,observing and noting. Then I shall go away, abroad. It is onlybachelors who can write about love. Do you like my tie?"
Seymour had a trick of putting expression into what he said by means ofhis hands. He waved and dabbed with them: they fondled each other, andthen started apart as if they had quarreled. Sometimes one fingerpointed, sometimes another, and they were all beautifully manicured.Antoinette did that, and as she scraped and filed and polished, hetalked his admirable French to her, and asked after the old home inNormandy, where she learned to make wonderful soup out of carrots andturnips and shin-bones of beef. At the moment she came in to announcethe readiness of lunch.
"Oh, is it lunch already?" said Nadine. "Can't we have it after half anhour? I should like to see the jade."
"Oh, quite impossible," said he. "She has taken such pains. It woulddistress her. For me, I should prefer not to lunch yet, but she is theartist now. They are fragile things, Nadine, eggs in spinach. You mustcome at once."
"How greedy you are," she said.
"For you that is a foolish thing to say. I am simply thinking ofAntoinette's pride. It is as if I blew a soap-bubble, all iridescent,and you said you would come to look at it in ten minutes. You shall tellme news: if you talk you can always eat. What has happened inPhilistia?"
Nadine frowned.
"You think of us all as Philistines," she said, "because we likesimple pleasures, and because we are enthusiastic."
&n
bsp; "Ah, you mistake!" he said. "You couple two reasons which have nothingto do with each other. To be enthusiastic is the best possiblecondition, but you must be enthusiastic over what is worth enthusiasm.Is it so lovely really, that Aunt Dodo has settled to marry the Ripper?Surely that is a _rechauffee_. You wrote me the silliest letter aboutit. Of course it does not matter at all. Much more important is that youlook perfectly exquisite. Antoinette, the spinach is _sans pareil_: giveme some more spinach. But it is slightly _bourgeois_ in Jack the R. tohave been faithful for so many years. It shows want of imagination, alsoI think a want of vitality, only to care for one woman."
"That is one more than you ever cared for," remarked Nadine.
"I know. I said it was _bourgeois_ to care for one. There is adifference. It is also like a troubadour. I am not in the least like atroubadour. But I think I shall get married soon. It gives one moreliberty: people don't feel curious about one any more. English peopleare so odd: they think you must lead a double life, and if you don'tlead the ordinary double life with a wife, they think you lead it withsomebody else and they get curious. I am not in the least curious aboutother people: they can lead as many lives as a piano has strings for allI care, and thump all the strings together, or play delicate arpeggioson them. Nadine, that hat-pin of yours is simply too divine. I will eatit pin and all if it is not Faberge."
Nadine laughed.
"I can't imagine you married," she said. "You would make a very oddhusband."
"I would make a very odd anything," said he. "I don't find anyrecognized niche that really fits me, whereas almost everybody has somesort of niche. Indeed in the course of hundreds of years the niches,that is the manners of life, have been evolved to suit the sorts oftypes which nature produces. They live in rows and respect each other.But why it should be considered respectable to marry and have hosts ofhorrible children I cannot imagine. But it is, and I bow to the unitedstrength of middle-class opinion. But neither you nor I are really madeto live in rows. We are Bedouins by nature, and like to see a differentsunrise every day. There shall be another tent for Antoinette."
That admirable lady was just bringing them their coffee, and he spoke toher in French.
"Antoinette, we start for the desert of Sahara to-morrow," he said. "Weshall live in tents."
Antoinette's plump face wrinkled itself up into enchanted smiles.
"_Bien, m'sieur_," she said. "_A quelle heure?_"
Nadine crunched up her coffee-sugar between her white teeth.
"You are as little fitted to cross the desert of Sahara as any one Iever met," she said.
"I should not cross it: I should--"
"You would be miserable without your jade or your brocade and the sandwould get into your hair, and you would have no bath," she said. "Butevery one who thinks has a Bedouin mind: it always wants me to go on andfind new horizons and get nearer to blue mountains."
"The matter with you is that you want and you don't know what you want,"said he.
Nadine nodded at him. Sometimes when she was with him she felt as if shewas talking to a shrewd middle-aged man, sometimes to a rather affectedgirl. Then occasionally, and this had been in evidence to-day, she feltas if she was talking to some curious mixture of the two, who had agirl's intuition and a man's judgment. Fond as she was of the friendswhom she had so easily gathered round her, gleeful as was the nonsensethey talked, serious as was her study of Plato, she felt sometimes thatall those sunny hours concerned but the surface of her, that, as she hadsaid before, the individual, the character that sat behind was notreally concerned in them. And Seymour, when he made mixture of his twotypes, had the effect of making her very conscious of the character thatsat behind. He had described it just now in a sentence: it wanted itknew not what.
"And I want it so frightfully," she said. "It is a pity I don't knowwhat it is. Because then I should probably get it. One gets what onewants if one wants enough."
"A convenient theory," he said, "and if you don't get it, you accountfor it by saying you didn't want it enough. I don't think it's true. Inany case the converse isn't; one gets a quantity of things which onedoesn't want in the least. Whereas you ought not to get, on the sametheory, the things you passionately desire not to have."
Nadine finished her sugar and lit a cigarette.
"Oh, don't upset every theory," she said. "I am really rather seriousabout it."
He regarded her with his head on one side for a moment. "What hashappened is that somebody has asked you to do something, and you haverefused. You are salving your conscience by saying that he doesn't wantit enough, or you would not have refused."
She laughed.
"You are really rather uncanny sometimes," she said.
"Only a guess," he said.
"Guess again then: define," she said.
"The obvious suggestion is that Hugh has proposed to you again."
"You would have been burned as a witch two hundred years ago," said she."I should have contributed fagots. Oh, Seymour, that was really why Icame to see you. I didn't care two straws about the foolish lace. Theyall tell me I had better marry Hugh, and I wanted to find somebody toagree with me. I hoped perhaps you might. He is such a dear, you know,and I should always have my own way: I could always convince him I wasright."
"Most girls would consider that an advantage."
"In that case I am not like most girls; I often wish I was. I wrote anarticle a month or two ago about Tolstoi, and read it him, and hethought it quite wonderful. Well, it wasn't. It was silly rot: I wroteit, and so of course I know. It came out in a magazine."
"I read it," remarked Seymour in a strictly neutral voice.
"Well, wasn't it very poor stuff?" asked Nadine.
"To be quite accurate," said Seymour, "I only read some of it. I thoughtit very poor indeed. If was ignorant and affected."
Nadine gave him an approving smile.
"There you are then! And with Hugh it would be the same in everythingelse. He would always think what I did was quite wonderful. They saylove is blind, don't they? So much the worse for love. It seems to me avery poor sort of thing if in order to love anybody you must lose, withregard to her, any power of mind and judgment that you may happen topossess. I don't want to be loved like that. I want people to sing mypraises with understanding, and sit on my defects also with discretion.If I was perfectly blind too, I suppose it would be quite ideal to marryhim. But I'm not, and I'm not even sure that I wish I was. Again if Hughwas perfectly critical about me, it would be quite ideal. It seems to meyou must have the same quality of love on both sides, or at any ratethe same quality of affection. People make charming marriages withoutany love at all, if they have affection and esteem and respect for eachother."
They had gone back to the drawing-room and Seymour was handing pieces ofhis most precious jade to Nadine, who looked at them absently and thengave them back to him, with the same incuriousness as people givetickets to be punched by the collector. This Seymour bore withequanimity, for Nadine was interesting on her own account, and he didnot care whether she looked at his jade or not. But at this moment hescreamed loudly, for she put a little round medallion of exquisitelycarved yellow jade up to her mouth, as if to bite it.
"Oh, Seymour, I'm so sorry," she said. "I wasn't attending to your jade,which is quite lovely, and subconsciously this piece appeared like abiscuit. Tell me, do you like jade better than anything else? It is partof a larger question, which is: 'Do you like things better than people?'Personally I like people so far more than anything else in the world,but I don't like any particular person nearly as much. I like them ingroups I suppose. If I married at all, I should probably be apolyandrist. Certainly if I could marry four or five people at once, Ishould marry them all. But I don't want to marry any one of them."
Seymour put the priceless biscuit back into its cabinet.
"Who," he asked, "are this quartette of fortunate swains?"
"Well, Hugh of course would be one," said she, "and I think Berts wouldbe another. And
if it won't be a shock to you, you would be the third,and Jack the R. would be the fourth. I should then have a variety ofinterests: this would be the world and the flesh and the devil, and asaint."
"St. Seymour," said he, as if trying how it sounded, like a Liberal peerselecting his title.
"I am afraid you are cast for the devil," said Nadine candidly. "Bertsis the world because he thinks he is cynical. And Jack is the flesh--"
"Because he is so thin?"
"Partly. But also because he is so rich."
Seymour turned the key on his jade. This interested him much more. Buthe had to make further inquiries.
"If every girl wanted four husbands," he said, "there wouldn't be enoughmen to go round."
"Round what?" asked Nadine, still entirely absorbed in what she wasthinking.
"Round the marriageable females. Or does your plan include poly-womany,whatever the word is, for men?"
"But of course. There are such lots of bachelors who would marry if theycould have two or three wives, just as there are such lots of girls whowould marry if they could have two or three husbands. All those lawsabout 'one man, one wife' were made by ordinary people for ordinarypeople. And ordinary people are in the majority. There ought to be asmall county set apart for ridiculous people, with a rabbit fence allround it, and any one who could be certified to be ridiculous in histastes should be allowed to go and live there unmolested. That would bemuch better than your plan of going to the Sahara with Antoinette. Youwould have to get five householders to certify you as ridiculous, inorder to obtain admission. Then you would do what you chose within therabbit fence, but when you wanted to be what they call sensible againyou would come out, and be bound to behave like anybody else, as long asyou were out, under penalty of not being admitted again."
Seymour considered this.
"There's a lot in it," he said, "and there would be a lot of people inthe rabbit fence. I should go there to-morrow and never come out at all.But a smaller county would be no use. I should start with Kent, notRutlandshire, and be prepared to migrate to Yorkshire. I accept theposition of one of your husbands."
"That is sweet of you. I think--"
He interrupted.
"I shall have some more wives," he said. "I should like a lunch wife anda dinner wife. I want to see a certain kind of person from about mid-daytill tea-time."
"Is that a hint that it is time for me to go?" asked Nadine.
"Nearly. Don't interrupt. But then, if one is not in love with anybodyat all, as you are not, and as I am not, you want a perfectly differentkind of person in the evening. To be allowed only one wife, has evolveda very tiresome type of woman; a woman who is like a general servant,and can, so to speak, wait at table, cook a little, and make beds. Youlook for somebody who, on the whole, suits you. It is like buying areach-me-down suit, which I have never done. It probably fits prettywell. But if it is to be worn every day until you die, it must fitabsolutely. If it doesn't, there are fifty other suits that would do aswell."
"Translate," said Nadine.
"Surely there is no need. What I mean is that occasionally two peopleare ideally fitted. But the fit only occurs intermittently: it is notcommon. Short of that, as long as people don't blow their noses wrong,or walk badly, or admire Carlo Dolci, or fail to admire Bach, so long,in fact, as they do not have impossible tastes, any phalanx of athousand men can marry a similar phalanx of a thousand women, and be ashappy, the one with the other, as with any other permutation orcombination of the thousand. There is a high, big, tremulous, romanticattachment possible, and it occasionally occurs. Short of that, with thelimitation about Carlo Dolci and Bach, anybody would be as happy withanybody else, as anybody would be with anybody. We are all on a level,except the highest of all, and the lowest of all. Life, not death, isthe leveler!"
"Still life is as bad as still death," said she.
Seymour groaned and waved his hands.
"You deserve a good scolding, Nadine, for saying a foolish thing likethat," he said. "You are not with your Philistines now. There is notEsther here to tell you how marvelous you are, nor Berts to wave hisgreat legs and say you are like the moon coming out of the clouds overthe sea. I am not in the least impressed by a little juggling with wordssuch as they think clever. It isn't clever: it is a sort of parrot-talk.You open your mouth and say something that sounds paradoxical and theyall hunt about to find some sense in it, and think they do."
Seymour got up and began walking up and down the room with his littleshort-stepped, waggling walk. "It is the most amazing thing to me," hesaid, "that you, who have got brains, should be content to score absurdlittle successes with your dreadful clan, who have the most ordinaryintelligences. I love your Philistines, but I cannot bear that theyshould think they are clever. They are stupid, and though stupid peopleare excellent in their way, they become trying when they think they arewise. You are not made wise by bathing all day in the silly salt sea,and reading a book--"
"How did you know?" asked Nadine.
"I didn't: it is merely the sort of thing I imagine you do at Meering.Aunt Dodo is different: there is no rot about Aunt Dodo, nor is thereabout Hugh. But Esther, my poor sister, and the beautiful Berts!"
Nadine took up the cudgels for the clan.
"Ah, you are quite wrong," she said. "You do us no justice at all. Weare eager, we are, really: we want to learn, we think it waste of timeto spend all day and night at parties and balls. We are critical, andwant to know how and why. Seymour, I wish we saw more of you. Whenever Iam with you, I feel like a pencil being sharpened. I can make fine marksafterwards."
"Keep them for the clan," he said. "No, I can't stand the clan, norcould they possibly stand me. When Esther squirms and says, 'O Nadine,how wonderful you are,' I want to be sick, and when I wave my hands andtalk in a high voice as I frequently do, I can see Berts turning palewith the desire to kill me. Poor Berts! Once I took his arm and heshuddered at my baleful touch. I must remember to do it again. Really, Idon't think I can be one of your husbands if Berts is to be another."
"Very well: I'll leave out Berts," said she.
"This is almost equivalent to a proposal," said Seymour in some alarm.
She laughed.
"I won't press it," she said. "And now I must go. Thanks for sharpeningme, my dear, though you have done it rather roughly. I am going down toMeering again to-morrow: London is a mere rabble of colonels andcolonials. Come down if you feel inclined."
"God forbid!" said Seymour piously.
Nadine had spent some time with him, but long after she had gonesomething of her seemed to linger in his room. Some subtle aroma of her,too fine to be purely physical, still haunted the room, and the sound ofher detached crisp speech echoed in the chambers of his brain. He hadnever known a girl so variable in her moods: on one day she would talknothing but the most arrant nonsense; on another, as to-day, theremingled with it something extraordinarily tender and wistful; on a thirdday she would be an impetuous scholar; on the fourth she threw herselfheart and soul (if she had a heart) into the gay froth of this Londonlife. Indeed "moods" seemed to be too superficial a word to describe heraspects: it was as if three or four different personalities were lodgedin that slim body or directed affairs from the cool brain in that smallpoised head. It would be scarcely necessary to marry other wives,according to their scheme, if Nadine was one of them, for it wasimpossible to tell even from minute to minute with which of her you wereabout to converse, or which of her was coming down to dinner. But allthese personalities had the same vivid quality, the same exuberance ofvitality, and in whatever character she appeared she was like someswiftly acting tonic, that braced you up and, unlike mere alcoholicstimulant, was not followed by a reaction. She often irritated him, butshe never resented the expression of his impatience, and above allthings she was never dull. And for once Seymour left incomplete thedusting of the precious jade, and tried to imagine what it would be liketo have Nadine always here. He did not succeed in imagining it with anygreat vividness, b
ut it must be remembered that this was the first timehe had ever tried to imagine anything of the kind.
* * * * *
Edith had left Meering with Dodo two days before and was going to spenda week with her in town since she was rather tired of her own house. Butshe had seen out of the railway-carriage window on the north coast ofWales, so attractive-looking a golf-links, that she had got out withBerts at the next station, to have a day or two golfing. The obdurateguard had refused to take their labeled luggage out, and it was whirledon to London to be sent back by Dodo on arrival. But Edith declared thatit gave her a sense of freedom to have no luggage, and she spent twocharming days there, and had arrived in London only this afternoon. Shehad gone straight to Dodo's house, and had found Jack with her and thenlearned the news of their engagement which had taken place only the daybefore. Upon which she sprang up and remorselessly kissed both Dodo andJack.
"I can't help it if you don't like it," she said; "but that's what Ifeel like. Of course it ought to have happened more than twenty yearsago, and it would have saved you both a great deal of bother. Dodo, Ihaven't been so pleased since my mass was performed at the Queen's Hall.You must get married at once, and must have some children. It will belike living your life all over again without any of those fatalmistakes, Dodo. Jack--I shall call you Jack now--Jack, you have beenmore wonderfully faithful than anybody I ever heard of. You have seenall along what Dodo was, without being put off by what she did--"
Dodo screamed with laughter.
"Are these meant to be congratulations?" she said. "It is the veryoddest way to congratulate a man on his engagement, by telling him thathe is so wise to overlook his future wife's past. It is also so pleasantfor me."
Edith was still shaking hands with them both, as if to see whether theirhands were fixtures or would come off if violently agitated.
"You know what I mean," she said. "It is useless my pretending toapprove of most things you have done: it is useless for Jack also. Buthe marries the essential you, not a parcel of actions."
Jack kept saying "Thanks awfully" at intervals, like a minute gun, andtrying to get his hand away. Eventually Edith released it.
"I am delighted with you both," she said. "And to think that only afortnight ago I was still not on speaking terms with you, Dodo. And Jackwasn't either. I love having rows with people if I know things are goingto come straight afterwards, because then you love them more than ever.And I knew that some time I should have to make it up with you, Dodo,though if I was Jack I don't think I could have forgiven--well, youdon't wish me to go on about that. Anyhow, you are ducks, and I shallleave the young couple alone, and have a wash and brush-up. I have beenplaying golf quite superbly."
* * * * *
Edith banged the door behind her, and they heard her shrilly whistlingas she went off down the passages.
Then Dodo turned to Jack.
"Jack, dear, I thought I should burst when Edith kissed you," she said."You half shut your eyes and screwed up your face like a dog that isjust going to be whipped. But I love Edith. Now come and sit here andtalk. I have hardly seen you, since--well, since we settled that weshould see a good deal more of each other in the future. I want you totell me, oh, such lots of things. How often a month on the average haveyou thought about me during all these years? Jack, dear, I want to bewanted, so much."
"You have always been wanted by me," he said. "It is more a question ofhow many minutes in the month I haven't thought about you. They areeasily counted."
He sat down on the sofa by her, as her hand indicated.
"Dodo," he said, "I don't make demands of you, except that you should beyourself. But I do want that. We are all made differently: if we werenot the world would be a very stupidly simple affair. And you must knowthat in one respect anyhow I am appallingly simple. I have never caredfor any woman except you. That is the fact. Let us have it out betweenus just once. I have never worn my heart on my sleeve, for any woman topluck at, and carry away a mouthful of. There are no bits missing, Iassure you. It is all there, and it is all yours. It is in no way theworse for wear, because it has had no wear. I feel as if--"
Jack paused a moment: he knew the meaning of his thought, but found itnot so easy to make expression of it.
"I feel as if I had been sitting all my life at a window in my heart,"he said, "looking out, and waiting for you to come by. But you had tocome by alone. You came by once with my cousin. You came by a secondtime with Waldenech. You were bored the first time, you were frightenedthe second time. But you were not alone. I believe you are alone now: Ibelieve you look up to my window. Ah, how stupid all language is! As ifyou looked up to it!"
Dodo was really moved, and when she spoke her voice was unsteady.
"I do look up to it, Jack," she said. "Oh, my dear, how the world wouldlaugh at the idea of a woman already twice married, having romance stillin front of her. But there is romance, Jack. You see--you see you haverun through my life just as a string runs through a necklace of pearlsor beads: beads perhaps is better--yet I don't know. Chesterford gave mepearls, all the pearls. A necklace of pearls before swine shall we say?I was swine, if you understand. But you always ran through it all, whichsounds as if I meant you were a spendthrift, but you know what I domean. Really I wonder if anybody ever made a worse mess of her life thanI have done, and found it so beautifully cleaned up in the middle. Butthere you were--I ought to have married you originally: I ought to havemarried you unoriginally. But I never trusted my heart. You might easilytell me that I hadn't got one, but I had. I daresay it was a very littleone, so little that I thought it didn't matter. I suppose I was like theman who swore something or other on the crucifix, and when he broke hisoath, he said the crucifix was such a small one."
She paused again.
"Jack, are you sure?" she asked. "I want you to have the best life thatyou can have. Are you sure you give yourself the best chance with me? Mydear, there will be no syllable of reproach, on my lips or in my mind,if you reconsider. You ought to marry a younger woman than me. You willbe still a man at sixty, I shall be just a thing at fifty-eight."
Dodo took a long breath and stood up.
"Marry Nadine," she said. "She is so like what I was: you said ityourself. And she hasn't been battered like me. I think she would marryyou. I know how fond she is of you, anyhow, and the rest will follow. Ican't bear to think of you pushing my Bath chair. God knows, I havespoiled many of your years. But, God knows, I don't want to spoil moreof them. She will give you all that I could have given you twenty yearsago. Ah, my dear, the years. How cruel they are! How they take away fromus all that we want most! You love children, for instance, Jack. PerhapsI shall not be able to give you children. Nadine is twenty-one. That isa long time ago. You should consider. I said 'yes' to you yesterday, butperhaps I had not thought about it sufficiently. I have thought since.Before you came down to Meering I was awake so long one night, wonderingwhy you came. I was quite prepared that it should be Nadine you wanted.And, oh, how gladly I would give Nadine to you, instead of givingmyself: I should see: I should understand. At first I thought that Ishould not like it, that I should be jealous, to put it quite frankly,of Nadine. But somehow now that I know that your first desire was forme, I am jealous no longer. Take Nadine, Jack! I want you to takeNadine. It will be better. We know each other well enough to trust eachother, and now that I tell you that there will be nothing but rejoicingleft in my heart, if you want Nadine, you must believe that I tell youthe entire truth. I know very well about Nadine. She will not marryHugh. She wants somebody who has a bigger mind. She wants also to putHugh out of the question. She does not mean to marry him, and she wouldlike it to be made impossible. Woo Nadine, dear Jack, and win her. Shewill give you all I could once have given you, all that I ought to havegiven you."
At that moment Dodo was making the great renunciation of her life. Shehad been completely stirred out of herself and she pleaded against herown cause. She was quit
e sincere and she wanted Jack's happiness morethan her own. She believed even while she renounced all claim on him,that her best chance of happiness was with him, for it had taken her notime at all to make up her mind when he proposed to her yesterday. Andshe had not exaggerated when just now she told him that he ran throughher life like a string that keeps the beads of time in place. She hadnever felt for another man what she had felt for him, and herdeclaration of his freedom was a real renunciation, made impulsively butmost generously and completely. She really meant it, and she did notpause to consider that the offer was one of which no man couldconceivably take advantage. And Jack felt and knew her sincerity.
"You are absolutely free, my dear," she said. "Absolutely! And I willcome to your wedding, and dance at it if you like, for joy that you arehappy."
He got up too.
"There will be no wedding unless you come to it," he said. "Dance at it,Dodo, but marry me. Nobody else will do."
Dodo looked him full in the face.
"Edith was quite right to remind you of--of what I have done," she said.
"And I am quite right to forget it," said he.
She shook her head, smiling a little tremulously.
"Oh, Jack," she said in a sigh.
He took her close to him.
"My beloved," he said, and kissed her.