Chapter 10

rtellanyoneelse,certainlynowoman,andIthinkyou’retheonemanwhomightunderstandandnotbedisgusted.” “Areyoulonely?”hewhispered.“Isitanythinglikethat?” “Yes.”Thetrainseemedtoshakehimtowardsher.Hewasresolvedthatthoughadozenpeoplewerelooking,hewouldyettakeherinhisarms.“I’mterriblylonely,orIwouldn’tspeak.Ithinkyoumustknowalready.”Theirfaceswerecrimson,asifthesamethoughtwassurgingthroughthemboth. “PerhapsIdo.”Hecameclosetoher.“PerhapsIcouldspeakinstead.Butifyouwillsaythewordplainlyyou’llneverbesorryIwillthankyouforitallmylife.” Shesaidplainly,“ThatIlovehim.”Thenshebrokedown.Herbodywasshakenwithsobs,andlestthereshouldbeanydoubtshecriedbetweenthesobsforGino!Gino!Gino! Heheardhimselfremark“Rather!Ilovehimtoo!WhenIcanforgethowhehurtmethatevening.Thoughwheneverweshakehands—”Oneofthemmusthavemovedasteportwo,forwhenshespokeagainshewasalreadyalittlewayapart. “You’veupsetme.”Shestifledsomethingthatwasperilouslynearhysterics.“IthoughtIwaspastallthis.You’retakingitwrongly.I’minlovewithGino—don’tpassitoff—Imeanitcrudely—youknowwhatImean.Solaughatme.” “Laughatlove?”askedPhilip. “Yes.Pullittopieces.TellmeI’mafoolorworse—thathe’sacad.SayallyousaidwhenLiliafellinlovewithhim.That’sthehelpIwant.IdaretellyouthisbecauseIlikeyou—andbecauseyou’rewithoutpassionyoulookonlifeasaspectacleyoudon’tenterityouonlyfinditfunnyorbeautiful.SoIcantrustyoutocureme.Mr.Herriton,isn’titfunny?”Shetriedtolaughherself,butbecamefrightenedandhadtostop.“He’snotagentleman,noraChristian,norgoodinanyway.He’sneverflatteredmenorhonouredme.Butbecausehe’shandsome,that’sbeenenough.ThesonofanItaliandentist,withaprettyface.”Sherepeatedthephraseasifitwasacharmagainstpassion.“Oh,Mr.Herriton,isn’titfunny!”Then,tohisrelief,shebegantocry.“Ilovehim,andI’mnotashamedofit.Ilovehim,andI’mgoingtoSawston,andifImayn’tspeakabouthimtoyousometimes,Ishalldie.” InthatterriblediscoveryPhilipmanagedtothinknotofhimselfbutofher.Hedidnotlament.Hedidnotevenspeaktoherkindly,forhesawthatshecouldnotstandit.Aflippantreplywaswhatsheaskedandneeded—somethingflippantandalittlecynical.Andindeeditwastheonlyreplyhecouldtrusthimselftomake. “Perhapsitiswhatthebookscall‘apassingfancy’?” Sheshookherhead.Eventhisquestionwastoopathetic.Forasfarassheknewanythingaboutherself,sheknewthatherpassions,oncearoused,weresure.“IfIsawhimoften,”shesaid,“Imightrememberwhatheislike.Orhemightgrowold.ButIdarenotriskit,sonothingcanaltermenow.” “Well,ifthefancydoespass,letmeknow.”Afterall,hecouldsaywhathewanted. “Oh,youshallknowquickenough—” “ButbeforeyouretiretoSawston—areyousomightysure?” “Whatof?”Shehadstop