"I know that," he said fiercely. "He took good care to tell me."
"I brought it all on myself. I ought to have given him up instead of
hanging on to him that way. Platonic love--It's all wrong. People aren't
really made like that. It was every bit as bad as going to Gibson
Herbert.... Worse. That was honest. This was all lying. Lying about
myself. Lying about him. Lying about--love."
"Then," he said, "you don't really know what it is."
"I know John's sort. And I know Gibson's sort. And I know there's a
heavenly sort, Billy, in between. But I'm spoiled for it. I think I could
have cared for you if it hadn't been for John.... I shan't ever get away
from him."
"Yes. If you can see it--"
"Of course I see it. I can see everything now. All that war-romancing. I
see how awful it was. When I think how we went out and got thrills. Fancy
getting thrills out of this horror."
"Oh well--I think you earned your thrill."
"You can't earn anything in this war. At least _I_ can't. It's paying,
paying all the time. And I've got more things than John to pay for. There
was little Effie."
"Effie?"
"Gibson's wife. I didn't _want_ to hurt her.... Billy, are you sure it
makes no difference? What I did."
"I've told you it doesn't.... You mustn't go on thinking about it."
"No. But I can't get over his betraying me. You see, that's the worst
thing he did to _me_. The other things--well, he was mad with fright, and
he was afraid of me, because I knew. I can't think why he did this."
"Same reason. You knew. He was degraded by your knowing, so you had to be
degraded. At least I suppose that's how it was."
She shook her head. He was darker to her than ever and she was no nearer
to her peace. She knew everything and she understood nothing. And that
was worse than not knowing.
"If only I could understand. Then, I believe, I could bear it. I wouldn't
care how bad it was as long as I understood."
"Ask McClane, then. He could explain it to you. It's beyond me."
"McClane?"
"He's a psychotherapist. He knows more about people's souls than I know
about their bodies. He probably knows all about Conway's soul."
Silence drifted between them, dim and silvery like the garden mist.
"Charlotte--are we never to get away from him? Is he always to stick
between us? That dead man."
"It isn't that."
"What is it, then?"
"All _this_.... I'd give anything to care for you, Billy dear, but I
don't care. I _can't_. I can't care for anything but the war."
"The war won't last for ever. And afterwards?"
"I can't see any afterwards."
Sutton smiled.
"And yet," he said, "there will be one."