“You weren’t meant to hear. You couldn’t understand.”
“But I would like to know, Anna.”
Anna got up and came across to Rosalie’s bed; and by her manner, and by her voice, and by the tall white figure she was, frightened Rosalie. She said, “Go to sleep. You can sleep. Why don’t you when you can? One day perhaps you’ll be like me and can’t.”
It reminded Rosalie of “Sleep on now and take your rest” in the Bible, and frightened her. Anna said, “It’s hard for women because men can do what they like but women can’t.” She turned away. She stood still and said with her back to Rosalie, “I’ve got a longing here.” Her hands were clasped and she brought them up and struck them against her breast with a thud. “And I always have had and I always will have. Here. Burning. Aching. And when you’ve got a longing like that you must—you must—” Then she said very violently, “I hate men. I hate them. I hate them.” Then she went very quickly to the candlestick on the dressing table and fumbled with it to blow it out, and it fell on the ground and broke and the room was black.
The next day was Sunday. Anna said she would not go to Church as she had a headache. Rosalie had been invited to spend the day with the little girl of Colonel and Mrs. Measures and she had lunch and tea there and then came home. The path from the gate to the house was bounded by a thick hedge. On the right was the rectory paddock and through the hedge Rosalie saw that something very strange was going on in the paddock. Away in the corner where there was a little copse with a pond in the middle was a crowd of people, some men from the village and her mother and Robert and some others. Whatever was it? While she peered, Harold came running out of the group towards the house. His coat was off, and his waistcoat; and his shirt and trousers looked funny and he ran funnily. He came near Rosalie and she saw that he was dripping wet. Had he fallen in the pond? Then two men came round from the back of the house carrying something, and Harold ran to them and they all ran with the thing to the pond. It looked like the door of the shed they were carrying. Rosalie scrambled through the hedge and ran towards the pond. Some one called out “Here’s Rosalie.” Hilda came out from among the people and waved her arms and called out, “Go back! Go back! You’re not to come here, Rosalie! You’re not to come here!” Rosalie stood still.
People were stooping. They had the door on the ground and Harold and a man were stooping and walking backwards over the door, carrying something. Presently there was more stooping, and then Harold and Robert and three men were carrying the door between them and walking as if the door were very heavy. Whatever was happening? Hilda came running to Rosalie. She was crying. “Rosalie, you’re to keep away. You’re not to come into the house yet. I’ll tell you when you can come. Go and stay in the garden till I tell you.”
Rosalie wandered about by the drive. Whatever was the matter? Robert appeared with his bicycle. Harold came out after him. “Go to Ashborough station with it, you understand. See the station master. Tell him it must be sent off at once. Tell him what has happened.” Robert was sniffling and nodding. Away went Robert, bending over the handle bar of his bicycle, riding furiously.
Evening began to come on. Rosalie was wandering at the back by the stables when Hilda came out through the kitchen door. “Rosalie, I’ve been looking for you. Rosalie, Anna is—dead.”
They went in through the kitchen. On the big kitchen clothes rail before the fire were clothes of Anna’s. They were muddy and sopping wet and steam was rising off them.
Rosalie ran to her mother to cry.