Massiter broke the chain of his thoughts and he was glad. Four days now and Rachel had said nothing; many times he had thought that she was going to speak, but the moments had passed. He had not slept for two nights—over and over he turned the question as to what he was to do.
Had he been up and about, some solution would have naturally come, he thought, but, lying here, thinking so interminably with one's body tied to one like a stone, nothing seemed clear or easy.
This was the worst day in the world to make thinking simple. The leaden sky pressed one down and held one's brain.
"I'm goin' to have a jolly bad evenin'," said Roddy, "I know I am."
Massiter was a relief; there was no need to talk whilst Massiter was there and his fat cheerful body restored one's balance. The same, sensible world that had once been Roddy's own and had, of late, slipped away from him, was restored when Massiter was there. Nevertheless one hour of Massiter was enough. Roddy could detect in Massiter's attitude that pity moved him to additional cheerfulness, and this was irritating; then Massiter's clumsy efforts to avoid topics that might be especially tactless—that also was tiresome.
Roddy was glad when Rachel and John Beaminster came down and relieved him, and then the moment arrived when he thought again that Rachel was going to speak, and perhaps if he had made a movement of affection he would have caught her, but always when some expression of feeling was especially demanded of him did he feel the least able to produce it.
The whole relationship between them depended on such slender incidents; one word from anybody and there would be no more confusion or doubt; the situation had the maddening tip-toe indecision of a dream.
"I'm going to have a bad time to-night," he thought. "It's no use giving in to the thing." He faced it deliberately; if only he could think clearly, but the damned weather.... Well, he and Jacob must face the night as best they could.
The dog lay flat near the window, moving restlessly under the close air, but pricking his ears at every movement that Roddy made, ready to come to him at any instant.
"That old dog cares for me more than anyone else does—and I only appreciated him after I was laid up—Rummy thing!" Roddy was conscious that high above him, somewhere near the ceiling, hovered a Creature, born of this damnable evening, and that did he allow himself to relax for a moment, down that hovering Creature would come. Very faintly, as it were from a great distance, he could catch its whisper in his ear. "What's the good of this?... What's the good of this? What did you always say? What would you have said about anyone placed as you are now? Better for him to get out."