Thrale frowned and looked up into the thin brightness of the frosty sky. “Yes, I understand,” he said. “It’s public opinion that compels one to regard love as shameful and secret. Alone together, free from every suspicion, we hadn’t a doubt. But now, we have to explain and we can’t explain, and we are forced against our wills to wonder whether we can be right and all the rest of the world wrong.”
“We are right,” put in Eileen.
“Only we can’t prove it to anyone but ourselves.”
“And we shouldn’t want to, if we hadn’t got to live with them.”
For a moment they looked at one another thoughtfully.
“No, we mustn’t run away,” Jasper said, with determination, after a pause. “Look, the flood has begun to go down already. That’s our work. There’s other work for us to do yet.”
For a time they were silent, looking down on to Marlow and out over the valley.
“We didn’t go over that hill,” said Eileen, at last, pointing to the distant rise of Handy Cross.
“No,” replied Jasper, and then, “we won’t hide behind hills. Damn public opinion.”
“Oh, yes, damn public opinion,” agreed Eileen. “But we won’t stay in Marlow always.”