'That's all right,' he said. 'I was afraid that with this success he'd
want to stick it out. These idealists are so infernally
self-righteous.'
Lady Butcher returned with Clara, looking very pale and slender in a
little black silk frock. Sir Henry came up to her at once and took
possession of her. He whispered in her ear,--
'Did you get my flowers?'
'Yes.'
'And my note?'
'Yes.'
'Will you stay?'
'No.'
Her hand went to her heart as she saw Rodd. How came he here in this
oppressive company? She was sorry and hated his being there.
She received her congratulations listlessly and accepted, without the
smallest intention of acting upon her acceptance, all her invitations.
Rodd was there. That was all she knew, he was there among those empty,
voracious people.
He moved towards her and caught her as she was passed from one group to
another.
'Forgive me,' he said. 'I had to come and see you. I thought it was
for the last time.... I know all your story, even down to to-night.
He is going away.'
'Charles?'
'Yes.'
'I can't stay here. I can't stand it.... You are not going to stay.'
'How do you know?'
'I was with you all through to-night....'
Their eyes met. Again there was nothing but they two. All pretence,
all mummery had vanished. Life had become pure and strong, more rich
and wonderful even than the play in which, baffled by the chances of
life, she had striven to live.
'To-morrow,' she said, 'I am going to the bookshop at half-past twelve.'
He bowed and left her, and meeting Mr Clott or Cumberland on the stairs
of his house he had the satisfaction of shaking him until his teeth
rattled, and of telling him that Mr Charles Mann had gone abroad for an
indefinite period.