“But,” said Marsh, looking at the envelope in his hand, “the letter is addressed to Miss Marsh. I’d intended to ask you about that; don’t they know you’re married?”
“No. I haven’t told them.”
“What a lark!” said Reggie, slapping his knee. “You could go back to Tunbridge Wells, and none of the old frumps would ever know you’d been married at all.”
“Why, so I could!” said Nora in a breathless tone. She gave Hornby a strange look and turned toward the window to hide the fact that she had flushed to the roots of her hair.
Her brother gave her a long look.
“Just clear out for a minute, Reg. I want to talk with Nora.”
“Right-o!” He disappeared in the direction of the shed.
“Nora, do you want to clear out?”
“What on earth makes you think that I do?”
“You gave Reg such a look when he mentioned it.”
“I’m only bewildered. Tell me, did Frank know anything about this?”
“My dear, how could he?”
“It’s most extraordinary; he was talking about my going away only a moment before you came.”
“About your going away? But why?”
She realized that she had betrayed herself and kept silent.
“Nora, for goodness’ sake tell me if there’s anything the matter. Can’t you see it’s now or never? You’re keeping something back from me. I could see it all along, ever since I came. Aren’t you two getting on well together?”
“Not very,” she said in a low, shamed tone.
“Why in heaven’s name didn’t you let me know.”
“I was ashamed.”
“But you just now said he was kind to you.”
“I have nothing to reproach him with.”
“I tell you I felt there was something wrong. I knew you couldn’t be happy with him. A girl like you, with your education and refinement, and a man like him—a hired man! Oh, the whole thing would have been ridiculous if it weren’t horrible. Not that he’s not a good fellow and as straight as they make them, but—— Well, thank God, I’m here and you’ve got this chance.”
“Eddie, what do you mean?”
“You’re not fit for this life. I mean you’ve got your chance to go back home to England. For God’s sake, take it! In six months’ time, all you’ve gone through here will seem nothing but a hideous dream.”
The expression of her face was so extraordinary, such a combination of fear, bewilderment, and something that was far deeper than dismay, that he stared at her for a moment without speaking.
“Nora, what’s the matter!”
“I don’t know,” she said hoarsely.
But she did, she did.
At his words, the picture of the little shack—her home now—as it had looked the first time she saw it in all its comfortlessness, its untidy squalor, rose before her eyes. And she saw a lonely man clumsily busying himself about the preparation of an illy-cooked meal, and later sitting smoking in the desolate silence. She saw him go forth to his daily toil with all the lightness gone from his step, to return at nightfall, with a heaviness born of more than mere physical fatigue, to the same bleak bareness.