Warleggan (45 page)

London, I have
come to realise ho
w silly this constant enmity is
that its chief poison acts on the man who feels; it. Not an original discovery, nor perhaps one I shall always be able to abide by, but worth a run. I put it as a proposition to George tonight that we should try to live without rancour.'

'And
what
did he say?'

'Nothing promising; but I hope when he gets over his astonishment he'll see the reason in it'

`And Elizabeth?'

"Ah.... About her I'm not
sure.'
He got the two logs firmly settled and when, still crouching, looked up at his wife His face, was less guarded tonight. `Demelza, I wanted to talk to you about her.'

'No, that I would rather not hear.'

`I think you must. Before, I went away I thought not.
Bu
t there's no other way.'

'Ross, I've forgotten it. All
that time. It will do harm
to
bring it back
now. I would much better prefer that nothing should be said
of
it'

'I know but in fact it can't b
e forgotten, can it? It is only
overlooked, set aside.'

She mo
ved away from the fire to give
herself breathing space, pulled a curtain straight, snuffed three candles on a side table so that the furniture at the end of the room slid its surfaces into an encroaching shadow. Absently she began to shake out a cushion,
Ross said: `I want to tell you that Elizabeth means nothing
to
me any more.'

`Don't say that, Ross. I shouldn't want for you to say more than you feel-'

`But I
do feel it-'

`Yes, at present. But then,, again sometime, p
erhaps next month, perhaps next
year. . .
’

He said: `Come here, Demelza: Sit down, will
you? Listen to what I have to
say.'

After a minute she came back.

He said,. 'You're so desperately anxious to be fair, not to be self-deceiving, to make the best of what you have... But - what,
you have is all..
Will you try, to believe that?'

`Have I call to believe that?'

`Yes I wish I could explain about Elizabeth. But in a way I think you must understand. I loved Elizabeth before ever I met you. It's been a
-
a constant attachment throughout my life D'you know how it is when. a person has wanted some thing always and never had it? It's true value to him may be anything or nothing; that
doesn't count; what does count
is its apparent value, which is always great. What I felt for
you has always been assessable,
comparable, something human and part of an
ordinary life. The other,
my feeling for Elizabeth, was not. So what I
did what happened in May, if i
t could only have happened in a vacuum, without hurt, to anyone, I should not have regretted at all.'

"No?' said Demelza. ;

No Because from it I came to rec
ognise things which no doubt I
should have had common sense and insight enough to have known without the experience b
ut did not. One is that if you
bring an idealised
relationship down to the level
of an ordinary: one, it isn't
always the ordinary one, that
suffers
. For a time, after that night,
things were upside down
-
for a time nothing came cle
ar. When it did, when it began, to, the one, sure feeling
that stood out was that my true and real love was
not for her but for you.'

She was very
still, eyelids, pale, brows straight with a hint of concentration at their in
ner ends. He received no hint
that she was wrestling with demons, her mind
and emotions split: on the one
hand struggling against the too easy capitulation ready, so ready, within herself; on the other looking at the
love ,that he now offered with both hands, and finding it,
perversely, not
enough
-
not of itself enough as a single isolated factor,.

'May I ask a question?'

`Of course.'

`How
did you come to feel that, Ross? What persuaded you of it? I mean, the experience itself can't hardly have been unpleasant.'

`What experience?'

'Of making love to Elizabeth.'

'No far from it.' He hesitated, a little put o
ut.
But I wasn't seeking just pleasure. I was
-
I suppose in fundamentals I was seeking the equal of what I'd found in you, and it was not there. For me it was not there,'

'Perhaps it would, have come, in time. Perhaps you did not persevere, Ross.'

He glanced at her dryly
. `Would you have had me do so?’

'Well, I
do not know the details of your
adventure, but it seems to me you are hardly qui
te fair on Elizabeth At least ., I do not very much like her, but she is not
a light woman. You came upon her, I supp
ose, in surprise. I should not
be astonished if at first she tried to be faithful to her new promise. I do not know how long you stayed with her or how much you made love to her, but I sh
ould think there could be times
when she might show to better advantage
'Are you defending Elizabeth
now?'

Well, yes or no. I think I am defending women. Truly, Ross, are not all women treated by all men like so
mething inferior, like chattels, you take up and put down
at will? I
-
I'm very happy tonight
that you prefer me and I hope you always will. But I think it is unfair to any woman to judge her, to condemn her, upon a chance encounter, like. I should not wish to be so judged. Though indeed I think I have been so judged, quite recently,'

`What do you mean?'

'She hesitated, uncertain now of the chasm that gaped before her, then suddenly certain that-though all unplanned -
this was the testing jump.

`If we have to talk of t
his, then there's something I
must tell you. I have often thought I should, but it did not seem important
if you did not care for me any
more. But now if it is t
rue what you say, if you really
mean this.. .

'Of course I do.'

'Men' I must tell you, before we go any
further, that on my last visit
to the Bodrugans I had an adventure
-
though it did not end in quite the same way as yours. I went
-
you will know the sort of mood I went in to that ball. It was but four days after you had gone to E
lizabeth. I should, dearly have
liked to revenge
myself on you in the only way I
could. - And as
it came about,
the opportunity was there. Malcolm McNeil was there.'

'McNeil?' said Ross. 'The
..’

'Yes. We were
something flirtatious during the evening. Then afterwards he came to my .room.'

Ross looked at her.

She said: `I do not want for you to blame him, for it was almost at my invitation that he came., But when he came and began to make love to me, I found him less attractive than I could tolerate. I do not know what standards I have created in you, but I know what standard you have created in, me. And so at the last I would have nothing to do with him. The meeting did not end as happily as yours with Elizabeth. . He was very angry.'

`My God ! So I should think!'

'There, you see! You are taking the
man's side
, just as I took Elizabeth's-'

`I am not
! If
ever I meet with the profligate
swine

`But it's not fair to rail at him. It is me you should be angry with, if anyone....'

Ross
got up and walked slowly across the room. He stood
with his hands behind his back,
seeing without reading the titles of books on his bookshelf. A
fter a while he said : `I don't
understand. What occurred between you and McNeil?
Have you ever had any, feeling
for him?'

`At one time I believe I had a little, but not now.'

`A little
' Emotions disturbed his normal balance. 'Yet you allowed him the freedom of your room, of yourself-'

'Can you imagine how I felt at that time? You bad just abandoned me for Elizabeth.'

`So you threw yourse
lf at the first ran available-‘

`Not the first, Ross. At least the fourth.'

Their eyes met and clashed. There was an awful silence.

He said very bleakly: 'G
od in heaven, I don't admire your frankness after all this time!'

‘
Maybe I should not have to
ld you, but I don't like to be
dishonest. If there is to be something good, and true between us again-'

`Good and true.... How far did this
-
thing go
between you and him?'

Not any great way.'

'So I should thi
nk not!'

'Why should
you think
not, Ross? Should not the
goose, if
she chooses, be able to drink as deep as the gander?'

Anger was in him unencouraged. `Well, I don't think I admire your attitude, either then or now! I take no pride in my visit to Elizabeth. But the thing was the outcome of a devotion which had lasted on my side for
more
than ten years. It was not some tawdry little passion worked up over the wine for a cheap satisfaction between dinner and supper!'

Her pulses began to beat - suffocatingly. 'And Margaret Vosper?' she said.

`Margaret
Vosper?'

`Yes. She
'was at the ball. Have you a
ten-year devotion for her also?'

He could have struck her. `The only dealings I ever had with Margaret Vosper were one night before I met you. I believe you would be twelve at the time. I can't swear to my faithfulness to you while you were in
swaddling bands, and I
don't propose, to begin! Can you think of any other excuses to give a soldier licence of your body?'

That was what I didn't do, Ross, as you would know if you had been attending instead of getting hot and angry about it. I could not. I found I had no love for him at an. I don't know if that gives you
any gratification. It gave
him none'

Ross said: `How am I to know what gratification he received?'

'Oh,' she said, and stared at him blindly. 'Ross, what a thing to say! After you, just told me.... That you should think
.’
She could get no words out.

He said: 'How am I to know
anything any
more?'

There was dead silence for a moment or two. No,' she said. `How are you to know a

'She ran from the room.
Upstairs in an impossible trembling state, part anger, part
grief. In a cupboard the valise she had taken to Werry House. Out with it and a few things. Anything almost. A change of clothes, shoes, a few coins. She
began
to strugg
le out of her dress, pulling at
the hooks, ripping the lace. Then into her travelling clothes. Boots, crop, hat; it all took too long. Now and then tears fell on her hands. Now and then she took a breath as if there was no air left in the world. Jeremy stirred in his sleep. She must leave him now. Later she would send for him
. She could
not wake him; take him through the night.

Impossible end to the evening! Dwight and Caroline reconciled. They almost. It had begun so well. Ross could hardly have said more. Then her need of conviction. Then her mention of McNeil. McNeil. A test which had somehow r
ecoiled on herself. She stared round,
at this room which had been hers ever since they married. Never again. Not here. It was the end of all. Never again.

She got her hat
on, pinned it, could not find gloves, must go without; picked up the val
ise. Handkerchief. She must go
quickly or the sounds she was making would wake Jeremy.

Out in the passage and down the stairs. Ross. In the doorway of the parlour.

`Where are you going?'

She glared at him, eyes like lamps, opened the front door, and went out. Round the house, stumbling, into the yard; the stables. She must take Darkie, no other mount of their own. Th
e stables full tonight, Gimlett
had left a lighted lantern. She stumbled, dropped her valise, almost fell, pulled her
self to where the saddles were.
Her own. Darkie whinnied. She carried the saddle to the mare and threw it over her back.

She had saddled horses many times, but now her fingers were all ways. The girth kept slipping through her hands. Darkie was restless, sensing her haste and frightened by it. The other horses pushed against each other, whinnied; a bat disturbed fluttered with futile wings among the rafters. The seventh, Christmas, of their marriage. What had Verity
; said in her letter? They were all so wrong.

A
footstep. Ross said `Where are you going?'

She did not turn, tugged desperately at the girth, which had somehow got twisted and now would not release to begin again.

`Demelza.'

`I'm going away,' she sa
id. 'What else
can I do after . .
’