He recalled some of the things Jona had said to him in the tool-shed. She had been rather frank in speaking of her husband.
“Bill’s wonderful,” she said. “He caught the tiger last night. When the keeper couldn’t get it. He does everything well. He is the most fascinating man in the world—until you get used to him. I’ve got used to him. He fascinates all women. That would not matter so much, but nearly all women fascinate him. I pretend not to notice it. I think he does it partly to see how I will take it. I remain merry and bright. With a breaking heart, you understand. How much longer I shall be able to stand it, I do not know. Oh, my hands are so cold.”
He had noticed a pair of the gardener’s gloves lying on the lawn-mower. He handed them to her. She flung them away, a little petulantly it seemed to him.
He rose from the milestone and walked on. Certain words seemed to keep time with his footsteps. “She wants me to write to her. And I ought not. She wants me to write to her. And I ought not.”
He passed the post-office, and turned back to it again. Went on, and again turned back. This time he entered with his mind all bemused.
“Have you any nice stamps?” he asked.
CHAPTER VII
Mabel looked very enraged as she entered the house. “Anything the matter?” he enquired.