entirely. But if we shall resent anything on earth at all, we shall
resent the consecration of a deserted room.
Miss Abbott did not sit down, partly because the antimacassars might
harbour fleas, partly because she had suddenly felt faint, and was glad
to cling on to the funnel of the stove. She struggled with herself,
for she had need to be very calm; only if she was very calm might her
behaviour be justified. She had broken faith with Philip and Harriet:
she was going to try for the baby before they did. If she failed she
could scarcely look them in the face again.
"Harriet and her brother," she reasoned, "don't realize what is before
them. She would bluster and be rude; he would be pleasant and take it
as a joke. Both of them--even if they offered money--would fail. But I
begin to understand the man's nature; he does not love the child, but he
will be touchy about it--and that is quite as bad for us. He's charming,
but he's no fool; he conquered me last year; he conquered Mr. Herriton
yesterday, and if I am not careful he will conquer us all today, and the
baby will grow up in Monteriano. He is terribly strong; Lilia found that
out, but only I remember it now."
This attempt, and this justification of it, were the results of the long
and restless night. Miss Abbott had come to believe that she alone could
do battle with Gino, because she alone understood him; and she had put
this, as nicely as she could, in a note which she had left for Philip.
It distressed her to write such a note, partly because her education
inclined her to reverence the male, partly because she had got to like
Philip a good deal after their last strange interview. His pettiness
would be dispersed, and as for his "unconventionality," which was so
much gossiped about at Sawston, she began to see that it did not differ
greatly from certain familiar notions of her own. If only he would
forgive her for what she was doing now, there might perhaps be before
them a long and profitable friendship. But she must succeed. No one
would forgive her if she did not succeed. She prepared to do battle with
the powers of evil.
The voice of her adversary was heard at last, singing fearlessly
from his expanded lungs, like a professional. Herein he differed from
Englishmen, who always have a little feeling against music, and sing
only from the throat, apologetically. He padded upstairs, and looked
in at the open door of the reception-room without seeing her. He
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