§ 4
Before long she had thoroughly convinced herself that Verreker, whether consciously or not, preferred Helen’s companionship to her own. A fiendish pleasure in lacerating herself made her ever observant for trivialities that seemed to confirm her conviction. A word, a look, a quick movement of his became overcharged with significance.... And so ashamed was she of this miserable jealousy, so angry with herself for harbouring it, that she deliberately encouraged his friendship with Helen. She told him of Helen’s splendidly sympathetic disposition, of her wonderful capacity for understanding, and of the staunchness of her friendship. She thrust Helen to the front whenever the three of them were together. She would say: “I’m sorry I’m engaged on Saturday afternoon, so I can’t come to the opera.... But you and Helen go. Don’t stay behind on my account.” Sometimes Verreker would show evident reluctance at her withdrawal from the triangle of friendship. And this reluctance, rare and slight though it was, was worth all the pain she had inflicted on herself. This reluctance was the thing in her life that she treasured most.
She was becoming distinctly morbid.
From thrusting Helen forward at every opportunity, her morbidity developed into the deeper folly of avoiding him herself. If she met him in company she would treat him curtly. Her one aim was that he should notice the change in her demeanour. He did so after a week or so of this treatment, and his manner to her became curiously tender and sympathetic. And although she knew the terrible morbidity of her manœuvring, she drank in his tenderness and sympathy until he had seemingly no more to give. She knew the situation could not last, but she had not the courage to put an end to it. Something impelled her to accentuate the curtness that had produced such bitter-sweetness for her. She did so, and overreached herself. His sympathy vanished if she avoided him, he avoided her as much if not more. And all the time friendship with Helen was growing apace: Catherine’s withdrawal left the two of them more than ever together.... Secretly, Catherine was conscious that she was ruining whatever relationship existed between Verreker and herself. She had only herself to blame.
Casually, unostentatiously, she slipped back into the triangle. But her position was subtly different from before. The difference was indicated by his manner of inviting her to concerts, theatres, etc. Formerly he said: “I am going to the opera to-night: would you and Helen care to come?”
But now he said: “Helen and I are going to the opera to-night: would you care to come with us?”
It betokened a change, subtle, but of immense significance. And to endure it was all the harder, because Catherine knew that she was entirely responsible for it herself.