CHAPTER XXXI

edtheroomwiththerelics. “Irefuseentirelytogetunderthetable,”saidWilliamsarcastically. Shesawthathewaslosinghistemperwiththedifficultiesofthesituation.Herinstincttoldherthatanappealtohisaffection,atthismoment,wouldbeextremelyill-judged.Shecontrolledherself,satdown,pouredoutafreshcupoftea,andsippeditquietly.Thisnaturalaction,arguingcompleteself-mastery,andshowingherinoneofthosefeminineattitudeswhichWilliamfoundadorable,didmorethananyargumenttocomposehisagitation.Itappealedtohischivalry.Heacceptedacup.Nextsheaskedforasliceofcake.Bythetimethecakewaseatenandtheteadrunkthepersonalquestionhadlapsed,andtheywerediscussingpoetry.Insensiblytheyturnedfromthequestionofdramaticpoetryingeneral,totheparticularexamplewhichreposedinWilliam’spocket,andwhenthemaidcameintoclearawaythetea-things,Williamhadaskedpermissiontoreadashortpassagealoud,“unlessitboredher?” Cassandrabentherheadinsilence,butsheshowedalittleofwhatshefeltinhereyes,andthusfortified,WilliamfeltconfidentthatitwouldtakemorethanMrs.Milvainherselftorouthimfromhisposition.Hereadaloud. MeanwhileKatharinewalkedrapidlyalongthestreet.Ifcalledupontoexplainherimpulsiveactioninleavingthetea-table,shecouldhavetracedittonobettercausethanthatWilliamhadglancedatCassandraCassandraatWilliam.Yet,becausetheyhadglanced,herpositionwasimpossible.IfoneforgottopouroutacupofteatheyrushedtotheconclusionthatshewasengagedtoRalphDenham.Sheknewthatinhalfanhourorsothedoorwouldopen,andRalphDenhamwouldappear.ShecouldnotsitthereandcontemplateseeinghimwithWilliam’sandCassandra’seyesuponthem,judgingtheirexactdegreeofintimacy,sothattheymightfixthewedding-day.ShepromptlydecidedthatshewouldmeetRalphoutofdoorsshestillhadtimetoreachLincoln’sInnFieldsbeforehelefthisoffice.Shehailedacab,andbadeittakehertoashopforsellingmapswhichsherememberedinGreatQueenStreet,sinceshehardlylikedtobesetdownathisdoor.Arrivedattheshop,sheboughtalargescalemapofNorfolk,andthusprovided,hurriedintoLincoln’sInnFields,andassuredherselfofthepositionofMessrs.HoperandGrateley’soffice.Thegreatgaschandelierswerealightintheofficewindows.Sheconceivedthathesatatanenormoustableladenwithpapersbeneathoneoftheminthefrontroomwiththethreetallwindows.Havingsettledhispositionthere,shebeganwalkingtoandfrouponthepavement.Nobodyofhisbuildappeared.Shescrutinizedeachmalefigureasitapproachedandpassedher.Eachmalefigurehad,nevertheless,alookofhim,due,perhaps,totheprofessionaldress,thequickstep,thekeenglancewhichtheycastuponherastheyhastenedhomeaftertheday’swork.Thesquareitself,withitsimmensehousesallsofullyoccupiedandsternofaspect,itsatmosphereofindustryandpower,asifeventhesparrowsandthechildrenwereearningtheirdailybread,asiftheskyitself,withitsgrayandscarletclouds,reflectedtheseriousintentionofthecitybeneathit,spokeofhim.Herewasthefitplacefortheirmeeting,shethoughtherewasthefitplaceforhertowalkthinkingofhim.ShecouldnothelpcomparingitwiththedomesticstreetsofChelsea.Withthiscomparisoninhermind,sheextendedherrangealittle,andturnedintothemainroad.ThegreattorrentofvansandcartswassweepingdownKingswaypedestrianswerestreamingintwocurrentsalongthepavements.Shestoodfascinatedatthecorner.Thedeeproarfilledherearsthechangingtumulthadtheinexpressiblefascinationofvariedlifepouringceaselesslywithapurposewhich,asshelooked,seemedtoher,somehow,thenormalpurposeforwhichlifewasframeditscompleteindifferencetotheindividuals,whomitswallowedupandrolledonwards,filledherwithatleastatemporaryexaltation.Theblendofdaylightandoflamplightmadeheraninvisiblespectator,justasitgavethepeoplewhopassedherasemi-transparentquality,andleftthefacespaleivoryovalsinwhichtheeyesaloneweredark.Theytendedtheenormousrushofthecurrent—thegreatflow,thedeepstream,theunquenchabletide.Shestoodunobservedandabsorbed,gloryingopenlyintherapturethathadrunsubterraneouslyallday.Suddenlyshewasclutched,unwilling,fromtheoutside,bytherecollectionofherpurposeincomingthere.ShehadcometofindRalphDenham.ShehastilyturnedbackintoLincoln’sInnFields,andlookedforherlandmark—thelightinthethreetallwindows.Shesoughtinvain.Thefacesofthehouseshadnowmergedinthegeneraldarkness,andshehaddifficultyindeterminingwhichshesought.Ralph’sthreewindowsgavebackontheirghostlyglasspanelsonlyareflectionofthegrayandgreenishsky.Sherangthebell,peremptorily,underthepaintednameofthefirm.Aftersomedelayshewasansweredbyacaretaker,whosepailandbrushofthemselvestoldherthattheworkingdaywasoverandtheworkersgone.Nobody,saveperhapsMr.Grateleyhimself,wasleft,sheassuredKatharineeveryoneelsehadbeengonethesetenminutes. ThenewswokeKatharinecompletely.Anxietygaineduponher.ShehastenedbackintoKingsway,lookingatpeoplewhohadmiraculouslyregainedtheirsolidity.SheranasfarastheTubestation,overhaulingclerkafterclerk,solicitoraftersolicitor.NotoneofthemevenfaintlyresembledRalphDenham.Moreandmoreplainlydidsheseehimandmoreandmoredidheseemtoherunlikeanyoneelse.Atthedoorofthestationshepaused,andtriedtocollectherthoughts.Hehadgonetoherhouse.Bytakingacabshecouldbethereprobablyinadvanceofhim.Butshepicturedherselfopeningthedrawing-roomdoor,andWilliamandCassandralookingup,andRalph’sentranceamomentlater,andtheglances—theinsinuations.Noshecouldnotfaceit.Shewouldwritehimaletterandtakeitatoncetohishouse.Sheboughtpaperandpencilatthebookstall,andenteredanA.B.C.shop,where,byorderingacupofcoffee,shesecuredanemptytable,andbeganatvicetowrite: “IcametomeetyouandIhavemissedyou.IcouldnotfaceWilliamandCassandra.Theywantus—”hereshepaused.“Theyinsistthatweareengaged,”shesubstituted,“andwecouldn’ttalkatall,orexplainanything.Iwant—”Herwantsweresovast,nowthatshewasincommunicationwithRalph,thatthepencilwasutterlyinadequatetoconductthemontothepaperitseemedasifthewholetorrentofKingswayhadtorundownherpencil.Shegazedintentlyatanoticehangingonthegold-encrustedwallopposite,“...tosayallkindsofthings,”sheadded,writingeachwordwiththepainstakingofachild.But,whensheraisedhereyesagaintomeditatethenextsentence,shewasawareofawaitress,whoseexpressionintimatedthatitwasclosingtime,and,lookinground,Katharinesawherselfalmostthelastpersonleftintheshop.Shetookupherletter,paidherbill,andfoundherselfoncemoreinthestreet.ShewouldnowtakeacabtoHighgate.Butatthatmomentitflasheduponherthatshecouldnotremembertheaddress.Thischeckseemedtoletfallabarrieracrossaverypowerfulcurrentofdesire.Sheransackedhermemoryindesperation,huntingforthename,firstbyrememberingthelookofthehouse,andthenbytrying,inmemory,toretracethewordsshehadwrittenonce,atleast,uponanenvelope.Themoreshepressedthefartherthewordsreceded.WasthehouseanOrchardSomething,onthestreetaHill?Shegaveitup.Never,sinceshewasachild,hadshefeltanythinglikethisblanknessanddesolation.Thererushedinuponher,asifshewerewakingfromsomedream,alltheconsequencesofherinexplicableindolence.ShefiguredRalph’sfaceasheturnedfromherdoorwithoutawordofexplanation,receivinghisdismissalasablowfromherself,acallousintimationthatshedidnotwishtoseehim.ShefollowedhisdeparturefromherdoorbutitwasfarmoreeasytoseehimmarchingfarandfastinanydirectionforanylengthoftimethantoconceivethathewouldturnbacktoHighgate.PerhapshewouldtryoncemoretoseeherinCheyneWalk?Itwasproofoftheclearnesswithwhichshesawhim,thatshestartedforwardasthispossibilityoccurredtoher,andalmostraisedherhandtobeckontoacab.Nohewastooproudtocomeagainherejectedthedesireandwalkedonandon,onandon—Ifonlyshecouldreadthenamesofthosevisionarystreetsdownwhichhepassed!Butherimaginationbetrayedheratthispoint,ormockedherwithasenseoftheirstrangeness,darkness,anddistance.Indeed,insteadofhelpingherselftoanydecision,sheonlyfilledhermindwiththevastextentofLondonandtheimpossibilityoffindinganysinglefigurethatwanderedoffthiswayandthatway,turnedtotherightandtotheleft,chosethatdingylittlebackstreetwherethechildrenwereplayingintheroad,andso—Sherousedherselfimpatiently.ShewalkedrapidlyalongHolborn.Soonsheturnedandwalkedasrapidlyintheotherdirection.Thisindecisionwasnotmerelyodious,buthadsomethingthatalarmedheraboutit,asshehadbeenalarmedslightlyonceortwicealreadythatdayshefeltunabletocopewiththestrengthofherowndesires.Toapersoncontrolledbyhabit,therewashumiliationaswellasalarminthissuddenreleaseofwhatappearedtobeaverypowerfulaswellasanunreasonableforce.Anachinginthemusclesofherrighthandno