Part 40 (1/2)

In her voice there was a sound of outrage. Claude got up and stood by the fire.

”It isn't my fault,” he said. ”The truth is I can't work in that room. I can't work in this house.”

”But it's our home.”

”I know, but I can't work in it. Perhaps it's because of the maids, knowing they're creeping about, wondering--I don't know what it is. I've tried, but I can't do anything.”

”But--how dreadful! Nearly two months wasted!”

He felt that she was condemning him, and a secret anger surged through him. His reserve, too, was suffering torment.

”I'm sorry, Charmian. But I couldn't help it.”

”But then, why did you go up and shut yourself in day after day?”

”I hoped to be able to do something.”

”But----”

”And I saw you expected me to go.”

The truth was out. Claude felt, as he spoke it, as if he were tearing off clothes. How he loathed that weakness of his, which manifested itself in the sometimes almost uncontrollable instinct to give, or to try to give, others what they expected of him.

”Expected you! But naturally--”

”Yes, I know. Well, that's how it is! I can't work in this house.”

He spoke almost roughly now.

”I don't want to a.s.sume any absurd artistic pose,” he continued. ”I hate the affectations sometimes supposed to belong to my profession. But it's no use pretending about a thing of this kind. There are some places, some atmospheres, if you like to use the word generally used, that help anyone who tries to create, and some that hinder. It's not only a matter of place, I suppose, but of people. This house is too small, or something. There are too many people in it. I feel that they are all bothering and wondering about me, treading softly for me.” He threw out his hands. ”I don't know what it is exactly, but I'm paralyzed here. I suppose you think I'm half mad.”

To his great surprise, she answered, in quite a different voice from the voice which had suggested outrage:

”No, no; great artists are always like that. They are always extraordinary.”

There was a mysterious pleasure, almost gratification, in her voice.

”You would be like that. I should have known.”

”Oh, as to that--”

”I understand, Claudie. You needn't say any more.”

Claude turned rather brusquely round to face the fire. As he said nothing, Charmian continued:

”What is to be done now? We have taken this house--”

He wheeled round.