But it's late--much later than we
arranged, Hewet."
He was slightly annoyed, and in his capacity as leader of the
expedition, inclined to be dictatorial. He spoke quickly, using
curiously sharp, meaningless words.
"Being late wouldn't matter normally, of course," he said, "but when
it's a question of keeping the men up to time--"
He gathered them together and made them come down to the river-bank,
where the boat was waiting to row them out to the steamer.
The heat of the day was going down, and over their cups of tea the
Flushings tended to become communicative. It seemed to Terence as he
listened to them talking, that existence now went on in two different
layers. Here were the Flushings talking, talking somewhere high up in
the air above him, and he and Rachel had dropped to the bottom of
the world together. But with something of a child's directness, Mrs.
Flushing had also the instinct which leads a child to suspect what its
elders wish to keep hidden. She fixed Terence with her vivid blue eyes
and addressed herself to him in particular. What would he do, she wanted
to know, if the boat ran upon a rock and sank.
"Would you care for anythin' but savin' yourself? Should I? No, no," she
laughed, "not one scrap--don't tell me. There's only two creatures the
ordinary woman cares about," she continued, "her child and her dog;
and I don't believe it's even two with men.
Pages:
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401