the same process which had caused that appearance of
indifference in Drake was now repeating itself in Clarice. Drake was
superseding Gorley in her mind. She struggled against the obsession and
morbidly strove to picture to herself the actual execution: the black
troops ranged in a clearing before the smouldering village, looking up at
one figure--Gorley's--spinning on a rope. But even upon that picture
Drake's face obtruded. She thrust out her hands to keep it off, as though
it was living and pressing in upon her; for a moment she tried to conjure
up Gorley's face, but it was blurred--only his form she could see
spinning on a rope, and Drake beneath it, his features clear like an
intaglio and firm-set with that same sense of duty which had forced him
sternly to recount to her the truth that afternoon. She recurred to her
recent habit of comparing him with Mallinson. She had a vision of
Mallinson, with the same experience to relate,--if that were
imaginable--fidgeting through evasions, grasping at any diversion she
might throw out for him to play with.

But what if Drake's frankness, outspoken to the point of cruelty, sprang
from an indifference to her? Clarice had seen a good deal of Drake
lately. She caught herself almost smiling at the idea, softening at its
palpable falsity. In a last effort at resistance she fixed her thoughts
on the cruelty, the callousness, in his method of narration, and began to
feel herself on solid ground. She was consequently inspired to run over
all that he had said, in order to make her footing yet firmer, and at the
outset she was brought to a check. Why had she never questioned him upon
the matter before? he had asked. Clarice stopped and asked the question
of herself. At the beginning of their acquaintance certainly there had
always been others by, but afterwards there had been opportunities
enough. But by that time, what with her father's and Mrs. Willoughby's
hostility, she had begun to suspect that Drake was in some way implicated
in the mystery. Was it because she was afraid to know it for certain that
she had refrained? She recalled her letter to him written last Monday,
and how she had crossed out 'importance' and substituted 'interest.' Was
this knowledge important to her, really important, bearing issues in the
future? It could only be important, she realised, if she set great store
upon her acquaintanceship with Drake. Drake, in fact, had achieved
something of a triumph, though