“My God!” exclaimed Bylant. He was in Elsie’s study, whither she had
summoned him after his return to the house; she frequently sought his
advice, and a deep and understanding friendship existed between them. He
knew the situation could not have escaped her, and had felt that if he
did not disburden himself he should become hysterical and make some
fatal mistake. “Was ever a man in such a damnable situation before?”
“But it gives you your great chance,” said Elsie practically. “She just
naturally got herself engaged to you and she will just as naturally
drift into being your wife.”
“She looks upon me as a male clothes-horse with a conveniently human
head. More likely she’ll get too well used to me, see me more and more
as an intellectual automaton——My God, how can any woman be so obtuse!”
“Remember that Gita has had a unique and devastating experience. She’s
erected a sort of rampart about herself with charged wires on top, and
communicates with a few favored mortals through the peep-holes. To be
more scientific, I never knew a mind that had itself so thoroughly
censored.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of . . . it is a well-known fact that when women
deliberately repress their natural impulses, frigidity is the inevitable
result.”
“But not at Gita’s age. And frigidity is generally the refuge of
unwilling wives. Gita is hardly in their class! When she should have
been enjoying a commonplace innocent childhood and adolescence she
accumulated a rotten knowledge of depraved men of her own class; but at
least, being Gita, she saved herself from the worst. Now, after these
months in your constant society, she has learned what a thoroughly
decent man is like. I think it quite possible she is more in love with
you than she knows. She simply can’t make the connection, that’s all.
She’s still inside the fort.”
“Of course if I didn’t believe that I’d never go in for this grotesque
marriage. The situation is bad enough as it is, but if I hadn’t that
hope—it’ll be hell, all the same.”
“Not nearly such hell as if you’d proposed to her and seen her shudder
with disgust if you’d let yourself go. Now you know just where you
stand. She really loves you in her own queer way, and I don’t believe
another man lives she’d marry. All the cards are in your hands. You’ll
have a thousand chances to make her fall in love with you, make her feel
she needs you more and more. Did she give you a peck?”
“That is the word for it!”
“You’ve taken a longer stride than you know. It means a lot with her.
She’s pecked me several times and held my hand once. Polly has never
been honored.”
“You encourage me! But——” He stood up and shook himself, as if in
disgust at his moment of panic. “I have no intention of failing. It’s a
matter of destiny, anyhow. All we realists are romantics fundamentally,
and as she’s the woman I’ve been on the blind hunt for all my life and I
recognized her the moment we met, there can be only one ending, however
disheartening the prelude. If it were not for her cursed inhibitions
she’d have known it too, long before this. But I can wait!”
And Elsie, who had resolutely forgotten her day-dreams, reassured him
warmly. “It’s as inevitable as the fructification of the soil when the
sun shines on it long enough. We know how we’d work it out in a novel,
or rather how, with two such characters, it would work itself out.”
“A novel that doesn’t belie its name and isn’t merely a story, must
conform strictly to life, and life has many unexpected cross-currents.”
Bylant was gloomy once more.
“True enough. But there comes a moment in every novel when the author
for the first time is able to foresee the inevitable end. All signs
point one way. That is where predestination comes in. Now, if you’ve
calmed down, perhaps you’ll give me a bit of advice on a knot I’ve tied
myself into. There are a few things about the novel I haven’t yet
mastered, and one is technique.”
“Good!” Bylant smiled wanly. “Just the let-down I need before lunch.”