Part 113 (1/2)
”What was it?” he said.
”I hardly feel I can tell you,” she said.
”Then don't, if you would rather not. But I should be glad to know.”
”Would you? I told Beryl the reason.”
She felt forced to say that, forced to speak that bit of truth.
”Then, if so, cannot you tell me?”
”I said--I said I could tell you because I knew you were fond of me.”
”Ah--that was it!”
He was silent. At last he said:
”I should like to ask you a question. May I?”
”Yes--please do.”
”Are you very fond of Beryl Van Tuyn?”
”Oh, no!”
”Aren't you at all fond of her?”
”I'm afraid not. No. But I like her much better than I did.”
”Since you have done something for her?”
”Perhaps it is that.”
”It is that.”
He came towards the sofa and stood by it looking down at her.
”I told you just now, Adela, that you couldn't surprise me. What you have done in connexion with Beryl Van Tuyn has not surprised me. I always knew you were capable of such a thing; yes, even of a thing as fine as that. Thank G.o.d you have had your opportunity. Of course you took it. But thank G.o.d you have had it.”
”I had to take it. I couldn't do anything else.”
”Of course _you_ couldn't.”
She got up. She did not know why. She just felt that she had to get up.
Seymour put his hands on her shoulders.
”Have you ever wondered why I was able to go on loving you?” he asked her.
”Yes, very often.”
”Well, now perhaps you won't wonder any more.”