CHAPTER XLIV

esamomenttotheblackabyssofthepast.Theyhadcrossedit,alwaysexceptingLeonardandCharles.Theywerebuildingupanewlife,obscure,yetgildedwithtranquillity.LeonardwasdeadCharleshadtwoyearsmoreinprison.Oneusen’talwaystoseeclearlybeforethattime.Itwasdifferentnow. “IlikeHenrybecausehedoesworry.” “Andhelikesyoubecauseyoudon’t.” Helensighed.Sheseemedhumiliated,andburiedherfaceinherhands.Afteratimeshesaid:“Aboutlove,”atransitionlessabruptthanitappeared. Margaretneverstoppedworking. “Imeanawoman’sloveforaman.IsupposedIshouldhangmylifeontothatonce,andwasdrivenupanddownandaboutasifsomethingwasworryingthroughme.ButeverythingispeacefulnowIseemcured.ThatHerrForstmeister,whomFriedakeepswritingabout,mustbeanoblecharacter,buthedoesn’tseethatIshallnevermarryhimoranyone.Itisn’tshameormistrustofmyself.Isimplycouldn’t.I’mended.Iusedtobesodreamyaboutaman’sloveasagirl,andthinkthatforgoodorevillovemustbethegreatthing.Butithasn’tbeenithasbeenitselfadream.Doyouagree?” “Idonotagree.Idonot.” “IoughttorememberLeonardasmylover,”saidHelen,steppingdownintothefield.“Itemptedhim,andkilledhim,anditissurelytheleastIcando.IwouldliketothrowoutallmyhearttoLeonardonsuchanafternoonasthis.ButIcannot.Itisnogoodpretending.Iamforgettinghim.”Hereyesfilledwithtears.“Hownothingseemstomatch—how,mydarling,myprecious—”Shebrokeoff.“Tommy!” “Yes,please?” “Baby’snottotryandstand.—There’ssomethingwantinginme.IseeyoulovingHenry,andunderstandinghimbetterdaily,andIknowthatdeathwouldn’tpartyouintheleast.ButI—Isitsomeawful,appalling,criminaldefect?” Margaretsilencedher.Shesaid:“Itisonlythatpeoplearefarmoredifferentthanispretended.Allovertheworldmenandwomenareworryingbecausetheycannotdevelopastheyaresupposedtodevelop.Hereandtheretheyhavethematterout,anditcomfortsthem.Don’tfretyourself,Helen.Developwhatyouhaveloveyourchild.Idonotlovechildren.Iamthankfultohavenone.Icanplaywiththeirbeautyandcharm,butthatisall—nothingreal,notonescrapofwhatthereoughttobe.Andothers—othersgofartherstill,andmoveoutsidehumanityaltogether.Aplace,aswellasaperson,maycatchtheglow.Don’tyouseethatallthisleadstocomfortintheend?Itispartofthebattleagainstsameness.Differences,eternaldifferences,plantedbyGodinasinglefamily,sothattheremayalwaysbecoloursorrowperhaps,butcolourinthedailygrey.ThenIcan’thaveyouworryingaboutLeonard.Don’tdraginthepersonalwhenitwillnotcome.Forgethim.” “Yes,yes,butwhathasLeonardgotoutoflife?” “Perhapsanadventure.”