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Chapter 17

           Ramsay."RememberpoorMr.Langley;hehadbeenroundtheworlddozensoftimes,buthetoldmeheneversufferedashedidwhenmyhusbandtookhimthere.Areyouagoodsailor,Mr.Tansley?"sheasked.

           Mr.Tansleyraisedahammer:swungithighinair;butrealising,asitdescended,thathecouldnotsmitethatbutterflywithsuchaninstrumentasthis,saidonlythathehadneverbeensickinhislife.Butinthatonesentencelaycompact,likegunpowder,thathisgrandfatherwasafisherman;hisfatherachemist;thathehadworkedhiswayupentirelyhimself;thathewasproudofit;thathewasCharlesTansley—afactthatnobodythereseemedtorealise;butoneofthesedayseverysinglepersonwouldknowit.Hescowledaheadofhim.Hecouldalmostpitythesemildcultivatedpeople,whowouldbeblownskyhigh,likebalesofwoolandbarrelsofapples,oneofthesedaysbythegunpowderthatwasinhim.

           "Willyoutakeme,Mr.Tansley?"saidLily,quickly,kindly,for,ofcourse,ifMrs.Ramsaysaidtoher,asineffectshedid,"Iamdrowning,mydear,inseasoffire.Unlessyouapplysomebalmtotheanguishofthishourandsaysomethingnicetothatyoungmanthere,lifewillrunupontherocks—indeedIhearthegratingandthegrowlingatthisminute.Mynervesaretautasfiddlestrings.Anothertouchandtheywillsnap"—whenMrs.Ramsaysaidallthis,astheglanceinhereyessaidit,ofcourseforthehundredandfiftiethtimeLilyBriscoehadtorenouncetheexperiment—whathappensifoneisnotnicetothatyoungmanthere—andbenice.

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