Лето
VIII
Hesaidhisjobherewasaboutdone,anyhow;andtheredidn’tanotherwordpassbetweenus....Ifhetoldyouotherwisehetoldyouanuntruth.”
Charitylistenedinacoldtranceofanger.Itwasnothingtoherwhatthevillagesaid...butallthisfingeringofherdreams!
“I’vetoldyouhedidn’ttellmeanything.Ididn’tspeakwithhimlastnight.”
“Youdidn’tspeakwithhim?”
“No....It’snotthatIcarewhatanyofyousay...butyoumayaswellknow.Thingsain’tbetweenusthewayyouthink...andtheotherpeopleinthisplace.Hewaskindtome;hewasmyfriend;andallofasuddenhestoppedcoming,andIknewitwasyouthatdoneit—YOU!”Allherunreconciledmemoryofthepastflamedoutathim.“SoIwenttherelastnighttofindoutwhatyou’dsaidtohim:that’sall.”
Mr.Royalldrewaheavybreath.“But,then—ifhewasn’tthere,whatwereyoudoingthereallthattime?—Charity,forpity’ssake,tellme.I’vegottoknow,tostoptheirtalking.”
Thispatheticabdicationofallauthorityoverherdidnotmoveher:shecouldfeelonlytheoutrageofhisinterference.
“Can’tyouseethatIdon’tcarewhatanybodysays?It’strueIwenttheretoseehim;andhewasinhisroom,andIstoodoutsideforeversolongandwatchedhim;butIdursn’tgoinforfearhe’dthinkI’dcomeafterhim....”Shefelthervoicebreaking,andgathereditupinalastdefiance.“AslongasIliveI’llneverforgiveyou!”shecried.
Mr.Royallmadenoanswer.Hesatandponderedwithsunkenhead,hisveinedhandsclaspedaboutthearmsofhischair.
