In short,
Priscilla could no longer play, could no longer make a defence of her
shyness and ignorance; she realized that she must plunge into the
whirlpool for which she had left the In-Place and she must do so at once.
Boswell might fantastically play at being ninety and permit her to lend
her strength and youth to his use, but she never again could be deceived.
He was assisting her for Farwell's sake. He liked her, found her
entertaining, but intuitively she knew that in order to retain his
respect and confidence she must fulfil her part.
For a week or so longer he and she went to operas and theatres together
while final arrangements were being completed for her immediate
admittance, on trial, to the finest private hospital in the city, to
which was attached a training school of high repute.
Priscilla was both right and wrong about Boswell. He did appreciate and
admire her insistence to begin her career. It was the only course for her
to take; but he looked forward to the lonely, empty days without her with
real concern.
He had, to a certain extent, grown used to the detachment and
colourlessness of his life since Farwell had left it; but here, quite
unexpectedly, a young and vital personality had entered in and had given
him, in a crude, friendly way, to be sure, what his absent friend had
given--the assurance that his deformity could not exclude him from the
sweet humanity that was keen enough to recognize the soul of him.
Pages:
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251