“Yes,” said Maradick, “about?”
“Oh! I don’t know—something. It was easy enough to see as one came along. I asked Alice Du Cane; she didn’t know. What was she talking to you for?”
“Why shouldn’t she?”
“Oh! I don’t know; only she’s on the jump like the rest of us and hasn’t honoured anyone with her conversation very much lately. The place has got hold of you. That’s what it is. What did I tell you? Treliss is full of witches and devils, you know, and they like playing tricks with people like yourself, incredulous people who like heaps of eggs and bacon for breakfast and put half a crown in the plate on Sundays. I know.”
He didn’t say anything, so she went on:
“But I suppose Alice wanted to know what Tony was doing. That’s what they all want to know, and the cat will be out of the bag very soon. For my part, I think we’d all better go away and try somewhere else. This place has upset us.” Suddenly her voice dropped and she leant forward and put her hand for a moment on his knee. “But please, Mr. Maradick—we’re friends—we made a compact the other day, that, while we were here, you know, we’d be of use to each other; and now you must let me be of use, please.”
That had never failed of its effect, that sudden passing from gay to grave, the little emotional quiver in the voice, the gentle touch of the hand; but now she was serious about it, it was, for once, uncalculated.
And it had its effect on him. A quiver passed through his body at her touch; he clenched his hands.
“Yes,” he said in a low voice, “but I don’t think you can help me just now, Mrs. Lester. Besides, I don’t think that I want any help. As you say, we’re all a little strained just now; the weather, I suppose.” He paused and then went on: “Only, you don’t know what it is to me to have you for a friend. I’ve thought a good deal about it these last few days. I’ve not been a man of very many friends, women especially little.”
“Life,” she said, “is so difficult.” She liked to talk about life in the abstract; she was not a clever woman and she never pretended to keep pace with her husband in all his ideas, but, after all, it was something to be able to talk about life at all—if one said that it was “queer” or “difficult” or “odd” there was a kind of atmosphere.