She looked at this last with an
expression bordering on reproach, unfastened the pearls from her throat,
and laid them on the wadded, cream-coloured velvet lining. She delighted
to possess them and deplored possessing them in the same breath. They
spoke to her too freely and conclusively, told her too much. She would
rather not have acquired this knowledge either of Carteret or of
herself.--If it really were knowledge?--Again she repeated the question,
arising from the increasing normality of surrounding things--Before what?
For when all was said and done, the dear man with the blue eyes had
veritably and very really departed. Throughout the night his train had
been rushing north-north-westward to Paris, to England, to that Norfolk
manor-house of his, where his sister, his nephews, all his home
interests and occupations awaited him. What proof had she that more
intimate and romantic affairs did not await him there, or thereabouts,
also? Had not she, once and for all, learned the lesson that a man's
ways are different and contain many unadvertised occupations and
interests? If he had wished to say something, anything, special to her,
before going away, how easily--thus she saw the business--how easily he
might have said it! But he hadn't spoken, rather conspicuously, indeed,
had avoided speaking.
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