As Lizzie went down the great staircase, on every side of her, the stones of the house were whispering, "You're all going—you're all going—you're all going."
Her heart was very sad.
II
As she passed the Regent Street Post Office Francis Breton came out of it. They had not met often lately, but she was conscious that ever since that interview in Regent's Park, they had been very good friends. Her absorption with Rachel and affairs in the Portland Place house had assisted her own resolution and she had thought that she could meet him now without a tremor. Nevertheless the tremor came as she caught sight of him there and, for a moment, the traffic and the shouting died away and there was a great stillness.
He was very glad to see her. He stood on the post office steps looking richer and smarter than she had ever known him. He wore a dark blue suit and a black tie and a bowler hat—all ordinary garments enough—but they surrounded him with an air of prosperity that had not been his before. He seemed to her to gleam and glitter and shine with confidence and assurance. One hurried glimpse she had had of him some weeks before, miserable, unkempt, almost furtive. She was glad for his sake that all was well with him, but he needed her more when he was unhappy....
But he was delighted. "Miss Rand. That's splendid! Are you going back to Saxton Square now? The very thing! I've been wanting badly to see you!" It was always, she thought, in little hurried and occasional walks that they exchanged their confidences. There was not much to show for all the elaborate palace that she had once been building—snatches of conversation, clutches at words and movements, even eloquent interpretation of silences—well, she was wiser than all that now!
But, when they started off together, she found that she was caught up instantly into that fine assumption of intimacy that was one of his most alluring qualities. Radiant though he was he still needed her; he was more eager to talk to her than to anyone else even though he had forgotten her very existence until he saw her standing there.
"I am glad to see you. I should have come down and tried to find you, anyway, in a day or two. I've been through a rotten time—really rotten—and one doesn't want to see anyone—even one's best friends—in that sort of condition, does one?"
"That's just the time your real friends—if they're worth anything—want to see you. If they can be of any use——"