frightening, sacred, and in a way which I now more clearly understood, taboo.
It was still raining. It had been raining for days. I arrived at Hereford Square, shook the water off my overcoat and hung it up, and tramped into the drawing-room. A bright fire was burning and the lamps were all on. The curtains were not yet drawn and I could see outside the light from the window the dripping form of the magnolia tree. Antonia, who had been reading by the fire, jumped up to welcome me. She had a Martini all ready mixed, and a bowl of cocktail biscuits on the little table. She kissed me and asked me what sort of day I had had. I told her and began to sip my drink. I sat down heavily on the sofa. I was now, all the time, unutterably tired as if simply keeping alive was a terrible effort. Absentmindedly I picked up my latest volume of The Golden Bough.
'Must you read over your drink?' said Antonia sharply. 'I've been alone all day, except for Rosemary coming in this morning, which was hardly a treat.'
'Sorry,' I said. I put the book aside.
'And why are you reading mythology all the time now? You never used to. You haven't even looked at that book I got you on the war in the Pacific.'
'Sorry, darling,' I said. 'I'll read it next.' I closed my eyes. 'And don't go to sleep either,' said Antonia. 'I want to ask you to do something for me.'
'Anything you like,' I said rather sleepily. 'What?' 'Will you go and see Anderson for me?' That woke me up. 'Why?' I said. 'To achieve what? And why don't you go yourself?'
'I don't want to,' said Antonia. 'God knows what exactly I feel about Anderson. Sometimes I think I hate him. But I'm quite clear that the whole thing is utterly over.'
'Then why should I see him?' I said. But my heart burnt with desire.
'Simply to finish it off,' said Antonia. 'And there are practical things. There are a lot of my belongings at Pelham Crescent, which you might bring away, or arrange for a van to take, I suppose, as you wouldn't be able to get them all into the car.'
I said, 'Do you want me to find out whether Palmer still loves you?'
Antonia looked at me wearily, as if from far away, through infinite grey curtains of gloom and resignation. She said, 'He can't love me, or else he wouldn't have given up just because you put your fist in his eye.'
This seemed true; and I was reminded again of Antonia's innocence. Her connexion with Palmer and Honor, since she did not share in the knowledge that was crucial, seemed flimsy and abstract compared with mine. How connected I was I felt through my bones and my blood as I contemplated the possibility of seeing them again. I had known, of course, that it would come to this, I had known that I would see them again. It was perhaps just this certainty, secretly at work in my imagination, which had shed the little glimmer of hope. But, resting, I had averted my attention.
'You're sure you want me to do this, not you?' 'Yes,' she said, and sighed heavily. 'It's an unfinished business. I shall be relieved when it's done and you and I can settle down to living a normal life again.'
She sounded so dejected that I got up and leaning over her kissed her on the brow. I remained, leaning a little on her shoulder, my cheek touching her crown of golden hair. It was fading into grey. One day, without having noticed the transition, I would see that it was gold no longer.
Twenty-three
Once it had been settled that I should go on an embassy to Pelham Crescent I wanted to put it off as long as possible. When it came to it I was scared stiff. It was not just that I was positively frightened at the idea of perhaps seeing Honor again, and that when I pictured being in the same room with her my whole body became cold and rigid. It was also that this embassy represented in all probability my last chance. My last chance of what I was not very clear about, but certainly fear, curiosity, expectation, even hope clung about the prospect of the visit. Though if I believed in a miracle I could not at all conceive what that miracle might be. So it was that I played a little for time. I could, in the darkness and uncertainty into which we had been plunged by the mute withdrawal of the other two, just about do with, live with, the image of Honor: an image which might however become for me at any moment altogether a Medusa. For deprived utterly of hope I did not see how I could manage; and feared like death that utter deprivation.
But Antonia was impatient, and I could get from her a grace of only three days. Resolved at last, she wanted to make a quick end. Our discussion had taken place on a Monday. It was agreed that I should write to Palmer simply suggesting that I should come to see him at six o'clock on the following Thursday. This gave him time to reply; and in fact I received a postcard, brief but bland, by return to say that the time was suitable. By nine o'clock on the Wednesday evening I was already in a state of almost unbearable agitation and could settle to nothing. Not even a recently discovered book of Japanese legends, wherein brothers and sisters regularly lay together and procreated dragons, could retain my attention; and I would at last in desperation have gone to the cinema, only I feared that at the sight of anything sad or touching I might break into audible groans. Antonia was equally restless and had been in a mood of nervous irritation throughout the afternoon. We both wandered morosely about the house passing and re-passing each other, profoundly connected yet unable to touch, in a silent mutually hostile way.
I was worried that I had heard nothing from Georgie, who had not yet replied to my letter. Pain at this neglect, a particular pain separable from my other troubles, persisted, and I had had the intention of writing to her again that very evening. But when the time came I was unable to. The figure of Honor stood between us. I could not see Georgie any more. I could not, at that moment, even distantly envisage going to call on her; and to write now without suggesting a meeting seemed insuperably difficult. So I postponed thinking about Georgie, as indeed I was now postponing everything, until after my visit to Pelham Crescent.
I had just made another round of the house and was wondering if I could decently go to bed and whether if I did I would have another attack of asthma. Antonia had now got the entire contents of the linen cupboard out on to the stairs and was quite unnecessarily folding and sorting them. I stood on the landing for a while and watched her in silence. The telephone rang.
'I'll go,' I said, and took a long stride down over the piles of linen. 'Be careful,' said Antonia. I entered the drawing-room, closed the door, and picked up the receiver, as I always did now, with the expectation of something strange. It was Alexander.
I was pleased to hear his voice. 'Hello, you ruffian,' I said. 'Why are you neglecting us? Antonia's dying to see you. You've no idea how dull we've become. Do come and cheer us up.'
Alexander sounded confused. He said, yes, he'd love to come and he was sorry he'd been elusive, but first of all he had something important to tell me and he had better not beat about the bush.
'Beating about the bush,' I said, 'is exactly what you are doing. What is it?'
'I'm going to get married.'
I was shaken. I said, 'Well done, at last, brother. Who is she? Do I know her?'
'Well, you do, actually,' said Alexander. «It's Georgie.'
I laid the phone down on the table. Distantly I could hear Alexander talking still. I put my hand over my face.
With a hideous rush, like blood returning to a crushed limb, I was invaded by my old love for Georgie; and in that instant I realized how very much I had all the same, all the same, all the same, relied upon her faithfulness. I had been mad.
I picked up the phone again and said, 'Sorry, I missed that last bit.'
'I said, I suppose it's no use hoping that you won't be displeased, even angry. But I hope too that in the end you'll wish us luck. Do you want to see us, or would you prefer not?'
'I'll wish you luck now,' I said, 'and of course I want to see you. I can't think why you imagine I'd be displeased. I'm afraid I had nothing left for Georgie except a bad conscience. You're a cure for both of us. Honestly, I'm delighted.' With a fluency that amazed me lies and treachery streamed from my lips. I was in extreme pain.
'You're an ace, Martin,' said Alexander. 'Would you mind breaking it to Antonia?'
'I'll tell her surely,' I said. 'But won't you both come round to see us now, this evening? Where are you, anyway? Is Georgie with you?' I felt such misery, and such frenzy, at the news, I wanted now only to fall upon the
