Part 2 (2/2)
”I heard of you,” she said. ”You were shooting woodc.o.c.k in Dalmatia.”
”That was at Christmas.”
”Yes. You were hurt there.”
”Not seriously,” he replied. ”A sheep-dog attacked me. They are savage brutes, and indeed they have to be, there are so many wolves. The worst of it is, if you are attacked, you mustn't kill the dog, or there's trouble.”
”I heard of you again. You were at Quetta, getting together a caravan.”
”That was in February. I crossed by the new trade route from Quetta to Seistan.”
She had spoken in an indefinite tone, which left him with no clue to her thoughts. Now, however she turned her eyes upon him, and said in a lower voice, which was very gentle--
”Don't you think yon might have told me that you were going away for a year?”
Warrisden had gone away deliberately, and as deliberately he had abstained from telling her of his intention. He had no answer to make to her question, and he did not attempt to invent one. He sat still and looked at her. She followed the question with another.
”Don't you think it would have been kinder if you had written to me once or twice, instead of letting me hear about you from any chance acquaintance?”
Again he made no answer. For he had deliberately abstained from writing. The gentleness with which she spoke was the most hopeful sign for him which she had made that evening. He had expected a harsher accusation. For Pamela made her claims upon her friends. They must put her first or there was likely to be a deal of trouble.
”Well,” she said, with a shrug of her shoulders, ”I hope you enjoyed it.”
”Yes. I wish I could have thought you would have enjoyed it too. But you wouldn't have.”
”No,” she answered listlessly.
Warrisden was silent. He had expected the answer, but he was none the less disappointed to receive it. To him there was no century in the history of the world comparable to that in which he lived. It had its faults, of course. It was ugly and a trifle feverish, but to men of his stamp, the men with means and energy, a new world with countless opportunities had been opened up. Asia and Africa were theirs, and the farthest islands of the sea. Pamela, however, turned her back on it.
The new trade route to Seistan had no message for her. She looked with envy upon an earlier century.
”Of course,” he resumed, ”it's pleasant to come back, if only as a preparation for going away again.”
And then Pamela turned on him with her eyes wide open and a look of actual trouble upon her face.
”No,” she said with emphasis. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. ”You have no right to work upon people and make them your friends, if you mean, when you have made them your friends, to go away without a word for ever so long. I have missed you very much.”
”I wanted you to miss me,” he replied.
”Yes, I thought so. But it wasn't fair,” she said gently. ”You see, I have been quite fair with you. If you had gone away at once, if you had left me alone when I said 'No' to you two years ago, then I should have no right to complain. I should have no right to call you back.
But it's different now, and you willed that it should be different.
You stayed by me. Whenever I turned, there were you at my side. You taught me to count on you, as I count on no one else. Yes, that's true. Well, then, you have lost the right to turn your back now just when it pleases you.”
”It wasn't because it pleased me.”
”No. I admit that,” she agreed. ”It was to make an experiment on me, but the experiment was made at my expense. For after all you enjoyed yourself,” she added, with a laugh.
Warrisden joined in the laugh.
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