CHAPTER XXII

d.“Icanimagineacertainsortofperson—”shepausedshewasawarethathewaslisteningwiththegreatestintentness,andthathisformalitywasmerelythecoverforanextremeanxietyofsomesort.Therewassomepersonthen—somewoman—whocoulditbe?Cassandra?Ah,possibly— “Aperson,”sheadded,speakinginthemostmatter-of-facttoneshecouldcommand,“likeCassandraOtway,forinstance.CassandraisthemostinterestingoftheOtways—withtheexceptionofHenry.Evenso,IlikeCassandrabetter.Shehasmorethanmerecleverness.Sheisacharacter—apersonbyherself.” “Thosedreadfulinsects!”burstfromWilliam,withanervouslaugh,andalittlespasmwentthroughhimasKatharinenoticed.ItwasCassandrathen.Automaticallyanddullyshereplied,“Youcouldinsistthatsheconfinedherselfto—to—somethingelse....ButshecaresformusicIbelieveshewritespoetryandtherecanbenodoubtthatshehasapeculiarcharm—” Sheceased,asifdefiningtoherselfthispeculiarcharm.Afteramoment’ssilenceWilliamjerkedout: “Ithoughtheraffectionate?” “Extremelyaffectionate.SheworshipsHenry.Whenyouthinkwhatahousethatis—UncleFrancisalwaysinonemoodoranother—” “Dear,dear,dear,”Williammuttered. “Andyouhavesomuchincommon.” “MydearKatharine!”Williamexclaimed,flinginghimselfbackinhischair,anduprootinghiseyesfromthespotinthefire.“Ireallydon’tknowwhatwe’retalkingabout....Iassureyou....” Hewascoveredwithanextremeconfusion. HewithdrewthefingerthatwasstillthrustbetweenthepagesofGulliver,openedthebook,andranhiseyedownthelistofchapters,asthoughhewereabouttoselecttheonemostsuitableforreadingaloud.AsKatharinewatchedhim,shewasseizedwithpreliminarysymptomsofhisownpanic.Atthesametimeshewasconvincedthat,shouldhefindtherightpage,takeouthisspectacles,clearhisthroat,andopenhislips,achancethatwouldnevercomeagaininalltheirliveswouldbelosttothemboth. “We’retalkingaboutthingsthatinterestusbothverymuch,”shesaid.“Shan’twegoontalking,andleaveSwiftforanothertime?Idon’tfeelinthemoodforSwift,andit’sapitytoreadanyonewhenthat’sthecase—particularlySwift.” Thepresenceofwiseliteraryspeculation,asshecalculated,restoredWilliam’sconfidenceinhissecurity,andhereplacedthebookinthebookcase,keepinghisbackturnedtoherashedidso,andtakingadvantageofthiscircumstancetosummonhisthoughtstogether. Butasecondofintrospectionhadthealarmingresultofshowinghimthathismind,whenlookedatfromwithin,wasnolongerfamiliarground.Hefelt,thatistosay,whathehadneverconsciouslyfeltbeforehewasrevealedtohimselfasotherthanhewaswonttothinkhimhewasafloatuponaseaofunknownandtumultuouspossibilities.Hepacedonceupanddowntheroom,andthenflunghimselfimpetuouslyintothechairbyKatharine’sside.Hehadneverfeltanythinglikethisbeforeheputhimselfentirelyintoherhandshecastoffallresponsibility.Heverynearlyexclaimedaloud: “You’vestirredupalltheseodiousandviolentemotions,andnowyoumustdothebestyoucanwiththem.” Hernearpresence,however,hadacalmingandreassuringeffectuponhisagitation,andhewasconsciousonlyofanimplicittrustthat,somehow,hewassafewithher,thatshewouldseehimthrough,findoutwhatitwasthathewanted,andprocureitforhim. “Iwishtodowhateveryoutellmetodo,”hesaid.“Iputmyselfentirelyinyourhands,Katharine.” “Youmusttrytotellmewhatyoufeel,”shesaid. “Mydear,Ifeelathousandthingseverysecond.Idon’tknow,I’msure,whatIfeel.Thatafternoonontheheath—itwasthen—then—”Hebrokeoffhedidnottellherwhathadhappenedthen.“Yourghastlygoodsense,asusual,hasconvincedme—forthemoment—butwhatthetruthis,Heavenonlyknows!”heexclaimed. “Isn’titthetruththatyouare,ormightbe,inlovewithCassandra?”shesaidgently. Williambowedhishead.Afteramoment’ssilencehemurmured: “Ibelieveyou’reright,Katharine.” Shesighed,involuntarily.Shehadbeenhopingallthistime,withanintensitythatincreasedsecondbysecondagainstthecurrentofherwords,thatitwouldnotintheendcometothis.Afteramomentofsurprisinganguish,shesummonedhercouragetotellhimhowshewishedonlythatshemighthelphim,andhadframedthefirstwordsofherspeechwhenaknock,terrificandstartlingtopeopleintheiroverwroughtcondition,soundeduponthedoor. “Katharine,Iworshipyou,”heurged,halfinawhisper. “Yes,”shereplied,withdrawingwithalittleshiver,“butyoumustopenthedoor.”