"It would be wonderful," she said in the same low key, as if they alone were articulate in a world lashed to silence. "I have never been in the real outdoors in a big storm and I have always wanted it. It would be glorious——"
"With you," Philip whispered. His face was white, as if the lightning had touched it, and his eyes blazed. Jean stood silent before them. And while she stood looking at him, the thunder broke in a deafening roar that rocked the earth and smashed all subterfuge, all petty social pretense at misunderstanding; so that when the last reverberation died away and Philip said softly: "You know, don't you?" Jean nodded.
"Well?" he said with an effort. The sternness of his lips weakened in nervous twitching, a pitiful betrayal of the thin veneer of his composure. Jean turned to the garden and leaned her forehead against the frame of the window. Weariness weighted her, weariness too heavy to struggle with explanation, too deep to resent this demand so unexpected and unwelcome. Philip did not move. Jean's bowed head was more eloquent than words, the dejection and weakness of her strong body more cruel. In mockery of his momentary hope, a faint echo of the thunder rolled out to sea.
"Never?"
Jean shook her head.
Philip stared at the thick knot of hair, the broad shoulders, the long, strong lines of Jean's body, and the blood rushed into his eyes. His hands clenched on her shoulders and he swung her round, gripping her beyond the power to move.
"You think I'm weak and silly, and you try not to laugh at me. Laugh if you like, you couldn't hurt me, neither you nor any woman like you. You think you're terribly honest and straight, don't you, and you never tell the truth, not even to yourself. You know how I feel when you are near me; you must know it. You've got it in you, the call of a woman to a man and you pretend, you smother it all up under a sham of companionship and interest, and it's a lie."
Jean tried to release herself, but the fingers dug deeper into the muscles of her shoulders.
"I think you'd better go."
"I'll go when I'm ready, not before. Nobody has ever told you the truth about yourself."