The Passenger from Calais | Page 5

with or wish to
know."
She stared at me open-mouthed, her hands clenched, her eyes half out
of her head. Her face had gone deadly white, and I thought she would
have fallen there where she stood, a prey to impotent rage.
Now came a sudden change of scene. The lady, Mrs. Blair, as I had just
heard her called, appeared behind, her taller figure towering above the
maid's, her face in full view, vexed with varying acute emotions, rage,
grief, and terror combined.
CHAPTER III.
"What's all this?" she cried in great agitation. "Wait, do not speak,
Philpotts, leave him to me.... Do you go back to our place this instant;
we cannot be away together, you know that; it must not be left alone,
one of us must be on guard over it. Hurry, hurry, I never feel that it is
safe out of our sight.
"Now, sir," Mrs. Blair turned on me fiercely, "will you be so good as to
explain how I find you quarrelling with my maid, permitting yourself to
cast aspersions, to make imputations upon two unprotected women?"
"How much have you overheard?" I asked, feeling very small already.

My self-reproach was aroused even before I quailed under the
withering contempt of her tone.
"Enough to expect ample apology. How dare you, how dare you say
such things? What you may imagine, what unworthy idea you may
have formed, is beyond me to guess, but you can know nothing. You
can have no real reason for condemning me."
"Let me admit that, and leave the matter there," I pleaded. I could not
bring myself to tell her that she was self-condemned, that she was the
principal witness against herself. It would have been too cruel,
ungenerous, to take an unfair advantage. Why should I constitute
myself her judge?
She looked at me very keenly, her eyes piercing me through and
through. I felt that she was penetrating my inmost thoughts and turning
me inside out.
"I will not leave it at that. I insist upon your speaking plainly. I must
know what is in your mind."
"And if I refuse, distinctly, positively, categorically; if I deny your
contention, and protest that I have nothing to tell you?"
"I shall not believe you. Come, please, let there be no more evasion. I
must have it out. I shall stay here until you tell me what you think of
me, and why."
She seated herself by my side in the narrow velvet seat of the small
compartment, so close that the folds of her tweed skirt (she had
removed her ulster) touched and rubbed against me. I was invaded by
the sweet savour of her gracious presence (she used some delightful
scent, violette ideale, I believe), by putting forth my hand a few inches
I might have taken hers in mine. She fixed her eyes on me with an
intent unvarying gaze that under other conditions would have been
intoxicating, but was now no more than disquieting and embarrassing.
As I was still tongue-tied, she returned to her point with resolute

insistence.
"Come, Colonel Annesley, how long is this to go on? I want and will
have an explanation. Why have you formed such a bad opinion of me?"
"How do you know I have done so?" I tried to fence and fight with her,
but in vain.
"I cannot be mistaken. I myself heard you tell my maid that you wished
to have nothing to say to us, that we were not your sort. Well! why is
that? How do I differ from the rest of--your world, let us call it?"
"You do not, as far as I can see. At least you ought to hold your own
anywhere, in any society, the very best."
"And yet I'm not 'your sort.' Am I a humbug, an impostor, an
adventuress, a puppet and play-actress? Or is it that I have forfeited my
right, my rank of gentlewoman, my position in the world, your world?"
I was silent, moodily, obstinately silent. She had hit the blot, and could
put but one interpretation upon it. I saw she guessed I knew something.
Not how much, perhaps, but something to her discredit. She still was
not satisfied; she would penetrate my reserve, overcome my reticence,
have it out of me willy nilly, whether I would or no.
"You cannot surely refuse me? I have my reasons for desiring to know
the very worst."
"Why drive me to that?" I schooled myself to seem hard and
uncompromising. I felt I was weakening under the subtle charm of her
presence, and the pretty pleading of her violet eyes; but I was still
resolute not to give way.
"If you will only tell me why you think such evil I may be able to