But now theres all this intimacy andneighbouring.
Do you remember the little
stone holes they have forrooms in those old stone Cornish cottages?
But he had
sethis will on something, and wasnt going to give way. But I love and adore the
place, said Harriet.
Victoria looked at Harriet with her quick, bright,
shybrown eyes. I intend to move with men and get men to move with me before I
die, hesaid.
Once more in search of ahome, to be alone with Lovat, where he
would be happy. Verdun was the first, a wooden house painteddark red. Besides,
you liar,havent you your writing?
Any sort of people, so long as they make a
fuss of you. And yetit isnt the number of things youve put into it.
Then, last
evening, therehad been all this fervour and protestation. He said he wouldsee
you to-morrow in town.
If we had, perhaps we should live in adifferent
way.
Victoria had to dart to the house-agent for the key.
And you go as usual,
like a lambto the slaughter.
Its whats bred into you, he said, that comes out.
But when it comes to being the real thing, why, I knowit would be beyond me, so
there you are. And he could write, and it would beperfect. But he began atonce
to pick up rags and cans from his own grass. But theres something comes over me
when I see Mr.
But he had sethis will on something, and wasnt going to give
way. Youve got a lurid imagination, my dear man, said Jack. Do you feel you
could love an Australian?
The house insidewas dark, with its deep verandahs
like dark eyelids half closed. And the great thick granite walls and thelow
ceilings. The number Ive taken out, laughed Harriet. Withoutany connection
whatever with the rest of men.
In a quiet sortof way, the two men kept clear of
one another.
The house had been let for seven months to a man and wife with
elevenchildren.
Youve got ME there safe enough, tosupport you.
What do these
Callcotts and these littleTrewhella people mean to you after all? And the great
thick granite walls and thelow ceilings.
And on her feet she had heelless
sandals of plaited stripsof leather, from Colombo. Victoria lookedat him
curiously, wondering, and tried to draw him out. She was like somelost mongrel
running over a furrowed land.
Anything was as good as anything else: why not!
Yet it was paid for for threemonths: at four guineas a week.
|