“Why not?”
“I’ve forgotten. I’ve not thoroughly worked the thing out. Another time. Besides—besides, I’m sure I bore you with my eternal talk about my work. You’ve been such a kind, such a sympathetic friend and encourager that—”
He broke off, thinking of that face. Was it possible that through all these years Hermione had been playing a part with him, had been pretending to admire his talent, to care for what he was doing, when really she had been bored by it? Had the whole thing been a weariness to her, endured perhaps because she liked him as a man? The thought cut him to the very quick, seared his self-respect, struck a blow at his pride which made it quiver, and struck surely also a blow at something else.
His life during all these years—what would it have been without Hermione’s friendship? Was he to learn that now?
He looked at her. Now her face was almost as usual, only less animated than he had seen it.
“Your work could never bore me. You know it,” she said.
The real Hermione sounded in her voice when she said that, for the eternal woman deep down in her had heard the sound almost of helplessness in his voice, had felt the leaning of his nature, strong though it was, on her, and had responded instantly, inevitably, almost passionately. But then came the thought of his secret intercourse with Vere. She saw in the dark words: “Monsieur Emile’s idea.” “Monsieur Emile’s suggestion.” She remembered how Artois had told her that she could never be an artist. And again the intensely bitter feeling of satire, that had set in her face the expression which had startled him, returned, twisting, warping her whole nature.
“I am to encourage you—you who have told me that I can do nothing!”
That was what she had been feeling. And, as by a search-light, she had seen surely for a moment the whole great and undying selfishness of man, exactly as it was. And she had seen surely, also, the ministering world of women gathered round about it, feeding it, lest it should fail and be no more. And she had seen herself among them!
“Where can Vere have gone to?” he said.