Coming downstairs he gave his directions emphatically, but it
never occurred to him to give an opinion either because of the presence
of Rodriguez who was now obsequious as well as malicious, or because he
took it for granted that they knew already what was to be known.
"Of course," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, when Terence asked
him, "Is she very ill?"
They were both conscious of a certain sense of relief when Dr. Lesage
was gone, leaving explicit directions, and promising another visit in a
few hours' time; but, unfortunately, the rise of their spirits led them
to talk more than usual, and in talking they quarrelled. They quarrelled
about a road, the Portsmouth Road. St. John said that it is macadamised
where it passes Hindhead, and Terence knew as well as he knew his own
name that it is not macadamised at that point. In the course of the
argument they said some very sharp things to each other, and the rest
of the dinner was eaten in silence, save for an occasional half-stifled
reflection from Ridley.
When it grew dark and the lamps were brought in, Terence felt unable to
control his irritation any longer. St. John went to bed in a state
of complete exhaustion, bidding Terence good-night with rather more
affection than usual because of their quarrel, and Ridley retired to his
books. Left alone, Terence walked up and down the room; he stood at the
open window.
Pages:
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500