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Chapter 5

           Butwasitnothingbutlooks,peoplesaid?Whatwastherebehindit—herbeautyandsplendour?Hadheblownhisbrainsout,theyasked,hadhediedtheweekbeforetheyweremarried—someother,earlierlover,ofwhomrumoursreachedone?Orwastherenothing?nothingbutanincomparablebeautywhichshelivedbehind,andcoulddonothingtodisturb?Foreasilythoughshemighthavesaidatsomemomentofintimacywhenstoriesofgreatpassion,oflovefoiled,ofambitionthwartedcameherwayhowshetoohadknownorfeltorbeenthroughitherself,sheneverspoke.Shewassilentalways.Sheknewthen—sheknewwithouthavinglearnt.Hersimplicityfathomedwhatcleverpeoplefalsified.Hersinglenessofmindmadeherdropplumblikeastone,alightexactasabird,gaveher,naturally,thisswoopandfallofthespiritupontruthwhichdelighted,eased,sustained—falselyperhaps.

           ("Naturehasbutlittleclay,"saidMr.Bankesonce,muchmovedbyhervoiceonthetelephone,thoughshewasonlytellinghimafactaboutatrain,"likethatofwhichshemouldedyou."Hesawherattheendoftheline,Greek,blue-eyed,straight-nosed.Howincongruousitseemedtobetelephoningtoawomanlikethat.TheGracesassemblingseemedtohavejoinedhandsinmeadowsofasphodeltocomposethatface.Yes,hewouldcatchthe10:30atEuston.

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