John and Desire--his mind refused to see any fitness in the
mating. Yet this very perversity of love was something which he had
long recognized with the complacence of assured psychology.
He heard Mary's voice in the hall. He had forgotten Mary. He hoped
she would not tap upon the library door--as she sometimes did. No,
thank heaven, she had gone upstairs! That was an odd idea of Aunt
Caroline's. If he had felt like smiling he would have smiled at it.
Desire jealous of Mary? Ridiculous. . . .
"Here comes old Bones," said Yorick conversationally.
The professor started. It was a phrase he had him-self taught the
bird during that time of illness when John's visit had been the
bright spot in long dull days. It had amused them both that the
parrot seldom made a mistake, seeming to know, long before his
master, when the doctor was near.
But today? Surely Yorick was wrong today. John would not come today.
Would never come again--but did anyone save John race up the drive
in that abandoned manner? Benis frowned. He did not want to see
John. He would not see him! But as he went to leave the library by
one door John threw open the other and stood for an instant blinded
by the comparative dimness within.
"Where are you, Benis?"
"Here."
Spence closed the door. His brief anger was swallowed up in
something else. Never, even in France, had he seen John look like
this.
"We're a precious pair of dupes!" began John in a high voice and
without preliminaries.
Pages:
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306