He made a heroic effort. “No ... not even then.”
She flung herself on the floor, pressing her face against the carpet, moaning and moaning. Kneeling down, he picked her up bodily and laid her on the sofa. Bending over her—
“Naomi ... listen to me. It’s not my fault. It’s not yours. It’s all a muddle. Nobody’s to blame.”
Then she sat up suddenly. “Yes, there is. It’s your mother who’s to blame. She made me marry you. It all began with that. I didn’t want to ... I didn’t want to marry any one, but I wanted to have a mission of my own. She did it. She’s to blame, and now she hates me. She thinks I’ve stolen you from her.”
She buried her face in the cushions and lay sobbing. After a time, Philip said, “Naomi ... listen to me. You didn’t steal me from her.”
“Who did then?” said Naomi’s muffled voice.
“I don’t know. It just happened. I suppose it’s one of the things that happen in life. I’ve grown up now. I’ve grown up since we went to Megambo. That’s all. I know my own mind now.”
“Oh, you’re hard, Philip ... harder than flint.” She sat up slowly. “I’ll do anything for you. You can wipe your feet on me. I can’t let you go now ... I can’t ... I can’t!” She began suddenly to laugh. “I’ll do anything! I’ll prove to you I can keep house as well as your mother. I’ll show you how I can care for the children. They’re your children, too. I’ll learn to cook ... I’ll do anything!”
He did not answer her. He simply sat staring out of the window like an image carven of stone. And he was saying to himself all the while, “I can’t yield. I daren’t do it. I can’t—not now.” And all the while he felt a kind of disgust for the nakedness of this love of Naomi’s. It was a shameful thing. And during all their life together he had thought her incapable of such love.
She kept moaning and saying, over and over again, “I’ve got nothing now. I’m all alone ... I’ve got nothing now.”