“I risked a bold remark.
“‘Your great-grandmother, I’ve no doubt, could give you a hint of the Spanish dances.’
“Then she remembered, but the recollection came to her, I could see, from afar off, with the unreality of a date in history, poignant enough at the time.
“At that moment a knock fell upon the door, and Rawdon Westmacott came in without waiting to be bidden. He saw Ruth standing there, and stopped. Then he caught sight of me by the wide fireplace. His eyes travelled swiftly between us, and I saw the rage and the prompt conclusion spring into them. In fact, I never saw a man so suddenly full of barely contained anger. He would have given a great deal, I am sure, to have insulted me openly.
“We stood for a moment in silence, the three of us, then Westmacott’s voice came out of space to break the moment’s eternity.
“‘That’s fine toggery, Ruth, you’ve got on,’ he said.
“She looked at him without answering, her breath beginning to come a little quicker. I watched them both; I was angry, but not too angry to be interested. I felt the man’s power; his brutality; and I remember thinking that something in her—was it primitive woman?—responded to something—was it primitive man?—in him. At the same time I knew that waves of hatred vibrated between them; that, if she was attracted, she was no less repelled. Did I touch then, in an unexpected moment of insight, the vital spot of that enigma? I believe that I was very near the truth. I knew that the situation was not by any means an important one, but it was nevertheless a battle, a clash of wills, and as such I thought it significant.
“I saw her hand travel upward, and slowly begin to unwind the scarf.
“‘It’s ill becoming you, my girl,’ he went on, with the threatening note rising in his voice. ‘I’d sooner see you simple, Ruth,’ and I thought of the lashing sea when the wind begins to swirl like a dragon’s tail along the beach.
“I tried to intervene.