“Rather! That is to say, unless I am having a rest-cure. Do you know, Edith is much the most indefatigable person I ever saw. She never seems to be tired at all.”
Peggy did not reply at once. A whole new situation burst on her at that guileless remark. She herself knew, from Edith’s own lips an hour ago, that she was “frightfully” tired, but yet Hugh, who knew her best and loved her most, asserted the opposite. Edith told Peggy how tired she was; she not only did not tell Hugh, but she produced on him the impression of being indefatigable. And with that the purport of Edith’s nightmare in the gray dawn suggested itself to her mind. Why should she not tell Hugh she was tired? Or why should she not appear so to him?... Was Edith “keeping it up”? But she answered before the pause was noticeable.
“I know; she is very strong,” she said. “But, Hugh, don’t you think people are sometimes tired without knowing it? Gallant people, I mean, like Edith, who would never give in?”
Hugh’s face completely changed. The glow and boyishness of it died out, leaving the face of a thinking man. Also he chucked away a cigarette he had only just lit into the long herbaceous border.
“Go on!” he said. “Go on!”
Peggy thought “God forgive me for being such a liar.” Then she went on:
“It is only a guess of mine,” she said. “But I thought to-day that she looked most awfully tired. And I really suspect that she is. You see, Hugh, the excitement of it all has prevented you feeling it. One never feels tired if one is excited, and you are naturally still excited at the splendid success you have had. But the excitement was over for Edith when you had the success. Remember I only say she looked very tired to-day. Nothing more.”
Hugh was silent a moment.
“Oh, Lord, what a selfish devil I am!” he said. “It never occurred to me. She has always been so keen about everything. But if you are right, why didn’t she tell me she was tired?”
Peggy looked him straight in the face.