Prev | Current Page 595 | Next

Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Cathedral"

... It's my hat...it's my hat I must find."
He wiped his forehead. The back of his hand was covered with blood.
He saw once again the fire, low now and darkly illumined by some more
distant light, heard the scream of the merry-go-round, stared about him
and saw no living soul, climbed to his feet and saw the stars, then very
slowly, like a blind man in the dark, felt his way to the field's edge,
found a gate, passed through and collapsed, shuddering in the hedge's
darkness.


Chapter VII
Tuesday, June 22: III. Torchlight

Joan came home about seven o'clock that evening. Dinner was at half-past
seven, and after dinner she was going to the Deanery to watch the
Torchlight Procession from the Deanery garden. She had had the most
wonderful afternoon. Mrs. Combermere, who had been very kind to her
lately, had taken her up to the Flower Show in the Castle grounds, and
there she had had the most marvellous and beautiful talk with Johnny. They
had talked right under his mother's nose, so to speak, and had settled
everything. Yes--simply everything! They had told one another that their
love was immortal, that nothing could touch it, nor lessen it, nor twist
it--nothing!
Joan, on her side, had stated that she would never be engaged to Johnny
until his mother consented, and that until they were engaged they must
behave exactly as though they were not engaged, that is, never see one
another alone, never write letters that might not be read by any one; but
she had also asserted that no representations on the part of anybody that
she was ruining Johnny, or that she was a nasty little intriguer, or that
nice girls didn't behave "so," would make the slightest difference to her;
that she knew what she was and Johnny knew what _he_ was, and that
was enough for both of them.


Pages:
583 584 585 586 587 588 589 590 591 592 593 594 595 596 597 598 599 600 601 602 603 604 605 606 607