She had a wild
feeling as though it were up to her to spread herself sufficiently to
cover them all. She half rose. Perhaps she could hide more of that
emptiness if she moved nearer to the front: that was her thought.
But no; she mustn't do that: this was the place Ben had chosen for her;
she must stay where she was. He might look there, miss her, and imagine
that there was nobody, nobody at all; that even she had failed him.
If only she could spread herself--spread herself indefinitely--multiply
herself: anything, anything to cover those beastly chairs: sticking out
there, grinning, shaming her man!
Then she had a sudden idea of running into the street, entreating the
people to come in; was upon her feet for the second time, when Ben
walked on to the platform.
For once he was not ducking or moving sideways; he came straight
forward, bowed to the front of him, right and left; drew off his gloves
and bowed again. Mingling with her agony of pity, a thrill, ran through
Jenny Bligh at this. He remembered her teaching; he was
hers--hers--hers--after all, hers--more than ever hers!
The borrowed coat, far too big for him, rose in a sort of hood at the
back of his neck; as he bowed something happened to the centre stud of
his shirt, and it disappeared into an aperture shaped like a dark gourd
in the whiteness.
Pages:
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390