She did not know—how should she—that after that week’s madness on the southern coast there had come rather a terrible revelation to the man whom fortune seemed to be smothering with favours.
It had not come all at once. It had been there, or at any rate the gist of it, for some time. But when it was present in full force, it had the power to make all the adulation, triumph, and hopefulness of his career seem but a small thing and of little account, because of one great desire beyond his reach.
It came definitely into being during those many evenings Hal spent at the Cromwell Road flat, when Dudley was away in Holloway with his friend.
It reached a climax of realisation when she openly wore the watch and chain Sir Edwin had sent to her. The night he asked her not to wear it, and she tautingly refused, saw him, with all his success and favours, one of the most perplexed and unhappy men in London.
It was just the waywardness of the little god Love. The fair débutantes with money and influence had left him untouched. No older woman but Lorraine had disturbed his peace, or appealed to his deepest affections.
It was left to Hal, the mocker, the outspoken, the impatient of giant inches and splendid head, to awaken his heart to all its richness of strong, enduring love.
And what did it mean to her?
The sunshine and the joy might go out of all he was winning and achieving, if it might not be won and achieved for her—but what did she care—what was she ever likely to care?
Had she not always dealt him laughter and careless scorn where other women bowed down? Had she not, over and over, weighed him in the balance, in that quiet, direct way of hers, and seen the weak strain that had always been there? First the lack of purpose, the idle indifference, which, in a different guise, had led up to a memory which now tortured his mind—the memory of a mad week; of love that was not love, because his whole soul was not given with it—nay, worse, was actually given in unconsciousness elsewhere. If she ever knew of that, what must her indignation and scorn be then?… Would it not indeed separate them for ever?
And even if it did, could it make him unlove her?… Why should it, since he had waited no encouragement before he gave her all? If he knew why he loved her, it might.