‘I hadn’t the least notion of being at Bursley to-day,’ Twemlow explained. ’But I thought that Knype wasn’t much of a place—I always did think that, being a native of Bursley. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve noticed, Mrs. Stanway, how all the five Five Towns kind of sit and sniff at each other. Well, I felt dull after breakfast, and when I saw the advertisement of Dr. Quain at the old chapel, I came right away. And that’s all, except that I’m going to sup with a man at Knype to-night.’
There were sounds in the hall, and the door of the drawing-room opened; but it was only Bessie coming to light the gas.
‘Is that your master just come in?’ Leonora asked her.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘At last,’ said Leonora, and they waited. With noiseless precision Bessie lit the gas, made the fire, drew the curtains, and departed. Then they could hear John’s heavy footsteps overhead.
Leonora began nervously to talk about Rose, and Twemlow showed a polite interest in Rose’s private trials; Ethel said that she had just visited the patient, who slept. Harry asseverated that to remain a moment longer away from his mother’s house would mean utter ruin for him, and with extraordinary suddenness he made his adieux and went, followed to the front door by Millicent. The conversation in the room dwindled to disconnected remarks, and was kept alive by a series of separate little efforts. Footsteps were no longer audible overhead. The clock on the mantelpiece struck five, emphasising a silence, and amid growing constraint several minutes passed. Leonora wanted to suggest that John, having lost the dog, must have been delayed by looking for him, but she felt that she could not infuse sufficient conviction into the remark, and so said nothing. A thousand fears and misgivings took possession of her, and, not for the first time, she seemed to discern in the gloom of the future some great catastrophe which would swallow up all that was precious to her.
At length John came in, hurried, fidgetty, nervous, and Ethel slipped out of the room.
‘Ah! Twemlow!’ he broke forth, ’how d’ye do? How d’ye do? Glad to see you. Hadn’t given me up, had you? How d’ye do?’
‘Not quite,’ said Twemlow gravely as they shook hands.
Leonora took the water-jug from the tray and went to a chrysanthemum in the farthest corner of the room, where she remained listening, and pretending to be busy with the plant. The men talked freely but vapidly with the most careful politeness, and it seemed to her that Twemlow was annoyed, while Stanway was determined to offer no explanation of his absence from tea. Once, in a pause, John turned to Leonora and said that he had been upstairs to see Rose. Leonora was surprised at the change in Twemlow’s demeanour. It was as though the pair were fighting a duel and Twemlow wore a coat of mail. ’And these two have not seen each other for twenty-five years!’ she thought. ‘And they talk like this!’ She knew then that something lay between them; she could tell from a peculiar well-known look in her husband’s eyes.