2
Next day, with unreal ease, she met Mariella in the village. She came out of the chemist’s shop, and they were face to face. There she was, tall and erect, with her dazed green-blue crystal eyes looking without shadow or stain up-upon the world from between dark lashes; her eyes, that knew neither good nor evil,—the icy eyes of an angel or a devil. Under her black hat her short hair curled outwards, her pale smooth face preserved its childish oval, her lips just closed in their soft faint-coloured bow. The mask was still there, more exquisite than of old; yet when she smiled in greeting, something strange looked out for a moment, as if her face in one of its rare breakings-up had been a little wounded, and still retained the slightest, disturbed expression.
She seemed pleased.
‘Judith!... isn’t it?’
‘Mariella!’
‘Then you are still here. We wondered.’
She seemed at a loss for what to say, and looked away, shy and ill at ease, her eyes glancing about, trying to hide.
‘We—we were wondering about you and we thought you must be away. We remembered you were brainy and Julian said you told him you were going to college or somewhere, so we thought p’raps that’s where you were. We thought you must be dreadfully frightening and learned by now. Aren’t you?’
‘Oh no!’
What reply was possible to such silliness?
‘You were always doing lessons,’ she said in a puzzled voice. Then with a smile: ‘Do you remember Miss Pim?’
‘Yes. Her false teeth.’
‘Her smell.’ She wrinkled her small nose. ‘I used to sit and get whiffs of her, and think of tortures for her. No wonder I was backward.’ She gave her little giggle and added nervously again: ‘Look here, when will you come and see us? We’d like it. This afternoon?’
‘Oh, Mariella, I’d love to.’
‘They’re all there. D’you remember everyone? Julian was demobilized a little while ago. He’s going back to Oxford in the autumn.’
‘And Martin and Roddy?’
‘Yes, they’re both there. Roddy’s just back from Paris. He’s supposed to be studying drawing there. Martin ought to be at Cambridge, but he’s had appendicitis rather badly so he’s missing the term.’
‘Are you glad to be back here?’
‘Oh yes, we all like it awfully. And it seems to suit the infant.’
‘That’s good.’
There was a pause. She had thrown off her last remark with careless haste, defying you not to know about the infant; and her eyes had escaped again, as if in dread. In the pause the gulf of things never to be said yawned for a moment beneath their feet; and it was clear that Mariella at least would never breathe her husband’s name.
‘I—I was just buying some things for him,’ she said. ‘Some things Nanny wanted. But you can’t get much here....’ Her voice trailed off nervously. Then:
‘This afternoon,’ she said. ‘Good-bye till then. Don’t come too early because the boys are always dreadfully lazy after lunch.’
She smiled and went on.