Joan threw away her cigarette and rested her head upon her arms, so that her face was concealed from Emily. She murmured something.
“What do you say, Joan?”
“Nothing—only—I see the same old, the eternal illusion. And what a fascinating tenacious illusion it is, Emmy dear. We no sooner banish it in one form than it reappears in another.”
“But—tell me, Joan—what shall I do?”
“I, advise you? No, my dear. I cannot. I’d have to know you better than you know yourself to give you advice. You have grown into a certain sort of woman, with certain ideas of what you may and what you may not do. In this crisis you’ll follow the path into which your whole past compels you. And while I don’t know you well enough to give you advice, I do know you well enough to feel sure that you’ll do what is just and honourable. If that means renunciation, you will renounce him. If it means defiance, you will defy. If it means a compromise, why—I don’t think you’ll make it, Emily, unless you can carry your secret and still feel that the look of no human being could make you flinch.”
“Will I?” Emily’s voice was dreary and doubtful. “But, when one is starving, he doesn’t look at the Ten Commandments before seizing the bread that offers.”
“Not at the Ten Commandments—no. But at the one—‘Thou shalt not kill thy self-respect.’ And don’t forget, dear, that if you aren’t valuable to the world without love, you’ll be worth very little to it with love.”
“Joan’s Professor” came, and Emily went away to bed.
On her “lazy day” she went into the Park and seated herself under an elm high among the rocks. Several squirrels were playing about her and a fat robin was hopping round and round in a wide circle, pretending to be interested only in the food supply but really watching her. The path leading to her retreat turned abruptly just before reaching it, then turned again for the descent. She did not hear a footstep but, looking up as she was shifting her glance from one page of her novel to the next, she saw a child before her—a tall child with slim legs and arms, and a body that looked thin but strong under a white dress. She had a pink ribbon at her throat. Her hair was almost golden and waved defiantly around and away from a large pink bow. Her eyes were large and gray and solemn. But at each corner of her small mouth there was a fun-loving line which betrayed possibilities of mischief and appreciation of mischief. This suggestion was confirmed by her tilted nose.