Chapter XXXII
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ATlastGeraldhadbutonedaymore.Along-standingengagementofBerthaandMissLeyforcedhimtotakeleaveofthemearly,forhestartedfromLondonatseveninthemorning.
“I’mdreadfullysorrythatyoucan’tspendyourlasteveningwithus,”saidMissLey.“ButtheTrevor-Joneswillneverforgiveusifwedon’tgototheirdinner-party.”
“Ofcourseitwasmyfaultfornotfindingoutbefore,whenIsailed.”
“Whatareyougoingtodowithyourselfthisevening,youwretch?”
“Oh,I’mgoingtohaveonelastunholybust.”
“I’mafraidyou’reverygladthatforonenightwecan’tlookafteryou.”
InalittlewhileMissLey,lookingatherwatch,toldBerthathatitwastimetodress.Geraldgotup,andkissingMissLey,thankedherforherkindness.
“Mydearboy,pleasedon’tsentimentalise.Andyou’renotgoingforever.You’resuretomakeamessofthingsandcomeback—theLeysalwaysdo.”
ThenGeraldturnedtoBerthaandheldouthishand.
“You’vebeenawfullygoodtome,”hesaid,smilingbuttherewasinhiseyesasteadfastlook,whichseemedtryingtomakeherunderstandsomething.“We’vehadsomerippingtimestogether.”
“Ihopeyouwon’tforgetmeentirely.We’vecertainlykeptyououtofmischief.”
MissLeywatchedthem,admiringtheircomposure.Shethoughttheytookthepartingverywell.
“Idaresayitwasnothingbutalittleflirtationandnotveryserious.Bertha’ssomucholderthanheandsosensiblethatshe’smostunlikelytohavemadeafoolofherself.”
ButshehadtofetchthegiftwhichshehadpreparedforGerald.
“Waitjustonemoment,Gerald,”shesaid.“Iwanttogetsomething.”
Shelefttheroomandimmediatelytheboybentforward.
“Don’tgooutto-night,Bertha.Imustseeyouagain.”
BeforeBerthacouldreply,MissLeycalledfromthehall.
“Good-bye,”saidGerald,aloud.
“Good-bye,Ihopeyou’llhaveanicejourney.”
“Here’salittlepresentforyou,Gerald,”saidMissLey,whenhewasoutside.“You’redreadfullyextravagant,andasthat’stheonlyvirtueyouhave,IfeelIoughttoencourageit.Andifyouwantmoneyatanytime,Icanalwaysscrapetogetherafewguineas,youknow.”
Sheputintohishandtwofifty-poundnotesandthen,asifshewereashamedofherself,bundledhimoutofdoors.Shewenttoherroomandhavingratherseriouslyinconveniencedherselfforthenextsixmonths,foranentirelyunworthyobject,shebegantofeelremarkablypleased.InanhourMissLeyreturnedtothedrawing-roomtowaitforBertha,whopresentlycamein,dressed—butghastlypale.
“Oh,AuntPolly,Isimplycan’tcometo-night.I’vegotarackingheadacheIcanscarcelysee.YoumusttellthemthatI’msorry,butI’mtooill.”
Shesankonachairandputherhandtoherforehead,groaningwithpain.MissLeyliftedhereyebrowstheaffairwasevidentlymoreserious