Part 22 (2/2)
”Episode,” I amended.
She went on painting in silence. From where I stood I could see her profile. Her chin was tilted. Her expression was determined.
”Is it?” I said.
”Need we discuss it?”
”Not if you do not wish it.”
I paused.
”But,” I added, ”I should have liked a chance to defend myself.... What glorious sunsets there have been these last few days. I believe we shall have this sort of weather for another month.”
”I should not have thought that possible.”
”The gla.s.s is going up,” I said.
”I was not talking about the weather.”
”It was dull of me to introduce such a worn-out topic.”
”You said you could defend yourself.”
”I said I should like the chance to do so.”
”You have it.”
”That's very kind of you. Thank you.”
”Is there any reason for grat.i.tude?”
”Every reason.”
”Go on, Mr. Garnet. I can listen while I paint. But please sit down. I don't like being talked to from a height.”
I sat down on the gra.s.s in front of her, feeling as I did so that the change of position in a manner clipped my wings. It is difficult to speak movingly while sitting on the ground. Instinctively I avoided eloquence. Standing up, I might have been pathetic and pleading.
Sitting down, I was compelled to be matter-of-fact.
”You remember, of course, the night you and Professor Derrick dined with us? When I say dined, I use the word in a loose sense.”
For a moment I thought she was going to smile. We were both thinking of Edwin. But it was only for a moment, and then her face grew cold once more, and the chin resumed its angle of determination.
”Yes,” she said.
”You remember the unfortunate ending of the festivities?”
”Well?”
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