There
passed through his mind a remote wonder why he had suddenly unbosomed
himself to her in a way so extraordinarily unlike himself. It was,
he thought next, because as he had taken her about from one place to
another he had known that she had seen in things what he had seen in
them so long--the melancholy loneliness, the significance of it, the
lost hopes that lay behind it, the touching pain of the stateliness
wrecked. She had shown it in the way in which she tenderly looked from
side to side, in the very lightness of her footfall, in the bluebell
softening of her eyes. Oh, yes, she had understood and cared, American
as she was! She had felt it all, even with her hideous background of
Fifth Avenue behind her.
When he had spoken it had been in involuntary response to an emotion in
herself.
So he stood, thinking, as he for some time watched her walking up the
sunset-glowing road.
CHAPTER XVI
THE PARTICULAR INCIDENT
Betty Vanderpoel's walk back to Stornham did not, long though it was,
give her time to follow to its end the thread of her thoughts. Mentally
she walked again with her uncommunicative guide, through woodpaths and
gardens, and stood gazing at the great blind-faced house.
Pages:
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280