Лето
VIII
Thefeverishexaltationofthenightbeforehaddropped,andshesaidtoherselfthathehadgoneaway,indifferently,almostcallously,andthatnowherlifewouldlapseagainintothenarrowrutoutofwhichhehadliftedit.Foramomentshewasinclinedtosneeratherselffornothavingusedtheartsthatmighthavekepthim.
Shesatattabletillthemealwasover,lestMr.Royallshouldremarkonherleaving;butwhenhestoodupsherosealso,withoutwaitingtohelpVerena.Shehadherfootonthestairswhenhecalledtohertocomeback.
“I’vegotaheadache.I’mgoinguptoliedown.”
“Iwantyoushouldcomeinherefirst;I’vegotsomethingtosaytoyou.”
Shewassurefromhistonethatinamomentshewouldlearnwhateverynerveinherachedtoknow;butassheturnedbackshemadealasteffortofindifference.
Mr.Royallstoodinthemiddleoftheoffice,histhickeyebrowsbeetling,hislowerjawtremblingalittle.Atfirstshethoughthehadbeendrinking;thenshesawthathewassober,butstirredbyadeepandsternemotiontotallyunlikehisusualtransientangers.Andsuddenlysheunderstoodthat,untilthen,shehadneverreallynoticedhimorthoughtabouthim.Exceptontheoccasionofhisoneoffensehehadbeentohermerelythepersonwhoisalwaysthere,theunquestionedcentralfactoflife,asinevitablebutasuninterestingasNorthDormeritself,oranyoftheotherconditionsfatehadlaidonher.
