It was in a mood of great depression that he set out with her upon the day fixed. He was uncertain of everything—of her feeling, of his own intentions, of Gerald's worth. The existing state of things, difficult though it might be, was perilously sweet. There were hours when he told himself that he was an utter fool, and that his present attitude was a quixotry which bordered upon madness; yet there seemed no way to end it. Every day of the footing upon which he and his wife now stood made it more irrelevant, as it were, for him to turn from luke-warm companion into ardent lover ... and when he tried to face what would be his feeling if she rejected him, as she might—or worse still if, as was more likely, she submitted to his love without returning it—he felt that he simply did not dare risk it.
Virginia was quick to note his depression. The variability of his spirits nowadays was more noticeable than he supposed. Sometimes her light-hearted nonsense would beguile him into something like hilarity. These moments were usually, as she was well aware, followed by a corresponding withdrawal. She built all her hopes upon them, however, for it seemed to her that in the period of reaction he never slipped back quite so far into the realms of distance. It was an approach, though a very gradual one. Like a rising tide, each wave fell back; but, all the same, the flood mounted.
She chatted gaily as she sat beside him in the car, talking of the matters which engrossed her—the garden and the house; also of an invitation to the Chase to dine, which had lately been accepted. He could not perceive that she manifested the least consciousness of being on the way to meet her lover.
When they walked together into Joey's drawing-room, he was not so certain. Rosenberg, in spite of self-command, betrayed a very obvious embarrassment. If her feeling were doubtful, his was not. Her mere presence in the room seemed to set him a-quiver.
Gaunt shook hands with him more easily, less grudgingly than on the former occasion of their meeting. This surprised Gerald somewhat. He had gone from that meeting straight to the address given him by Joey, had seen Virginia, established an intimate footing of friendship, taken her about in his car, and done other things which a newly made husband would be most apt to resent. Yet Gaunt's greeting was almost kindly. This disturbed Gerald. There must be one of two reasons for it. Either he was so sure of his wife that he could afford to ignore other men, or he knew more than he pretended to, and was on the watch, eager to take his adversary off guard.
These thoughts produced considerable constraint in the young man's manner to Virgie, whose gentle sweetness was much the same as usual.
"You made a surprisingly quick convalescence," he remarked, thinking how delicious she was in her tailor suit of silver corduroy.
"Yes," she said. "I was sure you would be pleased to know that I was not nearly so ill as mamma thought me. She was alarmed because I was feverish, but it soon went off. I am quite splendidly well now. This air suits me—doesn't it, Osbert?"
"It really seems to," he replied, ready to worship her for calling him so naturally into the conversation. "Motoring, too, agrees with you. I feel very grateful to you, Rosenberg, for giving her some runs down in Sussex, though I wish you could have avoided the drenching."
The composed voice and words made Percy feel quite hot, and for a moment they disconcerted Gerald, but he took up his cue almost at once.