Friendship and Folly: A Novel

by Maria Louise Pool

Here Lawrence shut his hand tightly, and, being alone, indulged himself in flinging his fist out into the air. But he immediately felt that this was an extremely childish action.

He supposed she was not really sincere in her remarks about a separation, but if she were—He did not finish this thought.

Recalling this day later in his life, Lawrence's mind was always somewhat confused concerning it. He knew that after lunch he had gone out in his boat, and that, instead of sailing, he had dropped anchor not far off shore. It had been a gray, cloudy day, with very little wind. Lying with his hat over his face, Lawrence had fallen into a deep sleep; and he remembered that he had dreamed horribly. When he fully awoke it was sunset, and the first thing he saw was the crescent of a very new moon set in the flush of the west, with its attendant star near it. The clouds had all dispersed; it was a superb sunset. There was not a breath of wind now, so he rowed in towards the shore; he was obliged to row very slowly, for he was not strong; it often seemed to him of late as if an unconquerable weakness had fastened upon him, and he had a morbid conviction that his wife would soon have her coveted freedom. It was unnecessary to make arrangements for a separation.

Lawrence went up to the hotel and tried to eat his dinner. Then he sat on the piazza and made an attempt to smoke. Some people who had been cycling came home, a buzz of talk and laughter heralding their approach.

In the white glare of the electric lights Lawrence looked to see Prudence and her escort wheeling up the broad driveway.

"Saw Mrs. Lawrence and Lord Maxwell on the Jerusalem Road," said one young man, as he sat down near Lawrence and lighted a cigarette. "I vow I don't know which is the better rider, your wife or Maxwell. They were talking of going over to Hull. They challenged me to come along, but I thought of the fifteen miles back here."

Presently the young man went in to dinner. Lawrence still kept his seat, though the wind had come up east with the turn of the tide towards the flood. He began to shiver, and at length rose to go and get an outside coat. He returned immediately with the coat buttoned closely about him.

It was not until near ten o'clock that he really began to wonder why Prudence did not return; and even then he was aware that this hour was not late, and particularly it was not late in these long summer days, when it seemed to be still day until far into the evening.

There was a dance in the parlors, and Lawrence tried to watch the dancers from his place on the veranda. When another hour, and yet another, had gone, and the clocks had struck twelve, the man's heart began to burn within him. It seemed to him also that one spot, on the top of his head, was on fire. But he was no longer conscious of being weak and ill. He believed he had never felt stronger in his life. He ran up the stairs to his room; but when he had arrived there he forgot what it was he had come for. He thought he said, "That cursed woman!" below his breath.

He wished he could see Carolyn Ffolliott,—not see her to speak with her, of course, but just look in her face. Just to look in her face would strengthen and comfort him, he was sure.