“Do you realise, Hugo, that you and I have scarcely had a minute of silence together for two years—you and I, whose lives are spent in chattering, have had to go on chattering even when we were alone, we could never forget ourselves or Ralph, we had always to be discussing what we would do and how we would do it and when we would do it. Discussing and discussing and discussing! Oh, dear, our love has been one endless discussion! And we are not very young any more, my sweet! But now we will be just silent, thinking of nothing but each other—for the first time in two years, we won’t think of Ralph, my dear, we just won’t! To please me, Hugo....”
It was an unusual pleasure for him to see her so soft, she who was so essentially fine that her natural softness had been merged into a great calmness: a delicious thing in a woman, calmness, but rather frightening.
But this was a matter of honour to-night. He had betrayed his best friend for two years, and would not betray him any longer. It had come to a point of honour that he must tell Ralph Loyalty that he loved Joan. And so now, even as he thrilled at her sweetness, he would have liked to say to her that his business to-night was with a point of honour, but he was much too self-conscious to be dramatic. He smiled self-consciously, and only said:
“But I must see Ralph to-night, dear. When I came in I told Smith——”
“Oh!” she cut impatiently in. “Be silent, Hugo, be silent—let’s enjoy ourselves while we may!” Nerves, of course. As she herself admitted immediately by asking, quite differently: “What did you say you told Smith? Didn’t he just tell you I was up here alone?”
“Yes. But I asked where Ralph was, and he said in the study, and so I told him to tell Ralph in an hour’s time that I was here. He said Ralph had given orders not to be disturbed, but I told him he expected me—and so I suppose he’ll be here soon.”
“Ah,” sighed Joan.
“God, it will be difficult!” Hugo muttered. “Dear old Ralph—the simplest man there ever was! What an unholy mess life is, Joan—that you and I have to fight our way to happiness over Ralph’s body, just because you met him before you met me!”
“Don’t say that!” she cried sharply.
“Nerves,” she smiled away his bewilderment. “What I really meant was, don’t say anything. For if you told Smith to tell him in an hour’s time we’ve still half an hour or so together”—she held up her wrist to the candlelight—“yes, just about that, and then there will be quite enough talking and discussing. And I’ve got something important to tell you, too, before he comes in—but, dear, I must enjoy just a little peace before the storm that will set me free, my first bit of peace in two years.” She pleaded with him, and it was delicious to hear Joan pleading, she who was usually so calm and sensible. And so they sat very close, hand in hand, like children.