Besides his fastidiousness revolted from plunging him into a
position which was so common, and which he, with his dislike of things
common, had always counted vulgar. Thus he was silent, and she also sat
silent, looking straight before her. At last, however, she spoke.
"Alexander's gone to the city," she said, "to see his stockbroker. The
stockbroker's a cousin of--ours." She smiled for a moment. "His name's
Mandeville. Since the party's out, we've got to see if we can make some
money."
His pity revived; whatever she deserved, it was not this horrible
common-place lot of wanting money; that sat so ill on his still stately,
no longer faultless, image of her.
"To make some money?" he repeated, half-scornful, half-puzzled.
"Oh, you're rich--you don't know. We spent a lot at Henstead. We must
have money: I spend a lot, so does Alexander." She glanced at him, and he
saw that something had nearly escaped her lips of which she repented. "Do
you ever feel," she went on, apparently by way of amendment, "as if you
might be dishonest--under stress of circumstances, you know?"
"I suppose I might.
Pages:
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313