"I'm not so happy that there's much to spoil. Eric, I sometimes think you don't quite understand. I'm not miserable because I want Jack and can't get him. I don't know whether I want him or not; that's what makes the suspense such a hell.… There was a time when I wasn't sure whether I was in love with him or not.… He was stronger that I was, he could have done anything with me. If I hadn't felt his power, I should have paid no attention to him, he couldn't have hurt me, I shouldn't have wanted to punish him. Is that love? I suppose it's one form.… When I see him … if he says he wants me … I don't know what I shall feel like. Love … ordinary love.… There's never been anything to equal my love for you.… So it hasn't been easy for me, has it? Ever since I met you, I've pined to know what was going to happen to me."
Eric looked away and was silent for several moments. She had made a romance of her oath to Jack and had played dramatically with alternate ecstasy and despair, seeing herself as a woman cursed by God. She made a romance of her twin loves and dual obligations, seeing herself as a woman fated to blight all who loved her. She lived for "situations" and conflicts, experimenting in emotion; already a garment of romance had been woven round Jack.
"I came to tell you that I'd seen the Warings to-day," Eric said at length. "They're off to Switzerland as soon as they can get their passports. If you'd care … I mean, I can write a letter from my office and enclose anything; it wouldn't be censored then."
Barbara bent her head until her trembling lips were hidden from him.
"It's like you to think of that! Nobody's ever loved any one as you love me! But I won't, Eric. If he wants me …"
Eric stared at the fire, kicking one heel against the other toe. If she was in agony of spirit, he could have sworn that she was enjoying the agony.
"Yes, I love you more than any one else ever has.… It gives you enormous gratification.… But I wonder if you think it's anything more than your own cleverness. I suppose you have some love for me.… But, if he wants you, I shall drop out of your life.… I was happy, I didn't need you! You wrapped yourself round my life until you saw that I couldn't do without you, and then—if—he—wants you! What have you left for me?"
"Is it nothing to have brought me happiness?" she asked; but his deep-toned reproach, unrehearsed, unstudied and faltering, had broken through her surface emotions and shattered her self-absorption. "Eric, I'm not every one! Your work——"
"D'you think I can ever write again? You never did think much of anything I wrote——"
"You know that I was only teasing you! That first night, when you were so dreadfully pleased with yourself.… But I found you were human, after all, when I came home with you——"