Eva smiled. “He’d have a fit if I told him that.”
“Would he? . . . In many ways your brother does not resemble the Good Bullace. And yet in others I think he deserves a little of my name . . . Sakharani.” He laughed. “I believe, Miss Eva, you are still rather frightened of my name. Now how long is it since last you saw me drunk?”
Even though she protested, she wasn’t altogether sure that he was joking.
“But you never know when I may break out,” he said. “Now you witness nothing but my admirable self-control.”
Every time that Godovius came to see her when James was in bed her brother would question her narrowly as to what he had said. His persistence annoyed her, because it seemed to her ungenerous that he should not take Godovius as he found him.
“I sha’n’t tell you when next he comes,” she said one day.
“That would be no good. . . . I know. . . . I have a feeling in my bones when he is here. It’s like some people who shiver when a cat comes into the room even if they don’t see it.”
“I think it’s rather horrid of you,” she said. “Is it that you’re jealous? . . . Or don’t you trust me?”
“Oh, I trust you all right,” he said bitterly.
In the intervals between his attacks he brightened up wonderfully. It was difficult to believe that he was the same man; but for all this he had lost a great deal of weight, and his face showed a blue and yellow pallor which alarmed her. And he was sleeping very badly. Eva became accustomed to the sound of his footsteps walking up and down his room at night, and to the whining voice in which he would recite long passages of scripture. She knew that some day there must come a big breakdown. Yes . . . it was good to have Godovius behind her.