"
The words were a genuine shock to his sarcastic and rather embittered
and bullying mood. Was he to believe them? The vibrant, uttering voice
was convincing enough. Was he to show the conventional incredulity
proper to such an occasion? Or was he to be natural, brutally natural?
He was drawn first to one course and then to the other, and finally
spoke at random, by instinct:
"What have I been doing to deserve this?"
Concepcion replied, still looking into the fire: "As far as I can
gather it must be your masterful ways at the Hospital Committee that
have impressed her, and especially your unheard-of tyrannical methods
with her august mother."
"I see.... Thanks!"
It had not occurred to him that he had treated the Marchioness
tyrannically; he treated her like anybody else; he now perceived that
this was to treat her tyrannically. His imagination leapt forward as
he gazed round the weird and exciting room which Queen had brought
into existence for the illustration of herself, and as he pictured the
slim, pale figure outside clinging in the night to the vast chimney,
and as he listened to the faint intermittent thud of far-off guns.
He had a spasm of delicious temptation. He was tempted by Queen's
connections and her prospective wealth.
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