His wife stared.
“You’re out for trouble,” she said. “Well, here it is—hot and strong. I said I didn’t marry you for that. Well, I don’t pay you for that, either.”
Without a word, Jeremy left the room.
Ten minutes later he passed out of the house.
For month after halting month Eve carried on. The girl hoped desperately that Jeremy would return. If he did, he should find her soul swept and garnished. She dressed soberly, spent so much and no more, rose always at eight. She kept the same state, but entertained the less fortunate, was always lending her cars. When she saw some object she fancied, she asked the price and gave the amount to charity. Herein she was scrupulous. A chinchilla stole attracted her very much. Still, her sables were perfect. Besides . . . After careful reflection she decided that but for Jeremy’s teaching she would have bought the fur and wrote a cheque for the sick for four hundred pounds.
She made no search for her husband—not because she was proud, but because she felt that it was vain. If he was coming he would come. If he was not . . . Had she stumbled across him, she would have begged and prayed. But look she would not. She had no doubt at all that she was up against Fate. And Jeremy had always said that Fate didn’t like you to try to force his hand. ‘So sure as you do, my lady, you lose your labour.’
She often wondered why she had lost her head that bitter afternoon. After all, to exceed a limit was not a grave offence. He was careful in traffic, no doubt: and then, slipping into the Park, he hurried along. Besides, he was only hastening back to her. . . . And he had been so humble.
Eve decided that she had been possessed. Some malignant devil had entered into her soul, distorting truth, ranting of motes and beams, raising a false resentment of a fictitious injury.
To say that she missed him is to call Leviathan a fish. Only the fetish that she must do his will saved her alive. The night of his going she lifted up her head, shook the tears from her eyes, and answered two letters that she had left too long. . . .