'Morality is depressing, said Lindsay. She was smiling slightly and drawing her finger in and out of the wet rings on the table to make a complex rosiform pattern.
'Your morality is not, said Randall. 'It invigorates, it inspires, it gives life. You have a marvellous moral toughness. You are so completely honest and genuine. You do me immense good.
'Get me another drink, Randall dear.
He rose and went to the bar. Simply drinking with her was paradise. He looked about him. A group of people had come in. A fat elderly woman joined them. She kissed each of them. They all began to chatter. Randall looked on them with amazement and affection. Wonderful ordinary people whose lives worked.
'You know, he said to Lindsay as he got back with the drink, 'I long to spoil you. It's almost incredible to me, and somehow marvellous, that you've never been out of England. Think of the places there are to show you I'
'Ah, it is I who would spoil you, she said. 'I would show you things you never dreamt of if you turned out to deserve them.
There was in her cool stare a pinpoint of yearning which Randall perceived with joy, while at the same time he felt, at her so turning him away from her lack of experience, a pure compassion. Strength flowed into him. 'We're pretty evenly matched, aren't we?
She smiled now, and just touched him on the nose with her finger. 'Lindsay, Lindsay, he said, in an overflowing of tenderness. 'This is the beginning of something? We will go away together, won't we?
'I don't know, she said. 'It's a matter of your deserts, isn't it? Don't for a moment forget that we're very well off as we are.
'We are well off, of course, said Randall cautiously. He was not sure how serious Lindsay was and he wanted to say nothing wrong. 'All the same, he said, 'I'm going quietly crazy.
'I'm not! said Lindsay, with an affected little pout of complacency. 'But you will come? said Randall. He desperately wanted to feel her spurs in him. 'You do love me, Lindsay, for heaven's sake?
She looked at him sombrely, and as he gazed in supplication he seemed to see another symbol taking shape in her eyes, as if her beloved initial, on which he had used to meditate as upon one of the names of God, had transformed itself into the relevant question.
'Money, he said. 'Yes.
Lindsay nodded.
'Yes, he said. 'We must have money. That's the trouble, isn't it? He did not insult her by saying, 'I can earn money, if you help me. That was not a thing to say to a girl such as Lindsay. The turn which the discussion had taken was a sobering one; but the cold touch of even a hostile reality, after the substanceless fantasy of the last year, thrilled his blood. He felt, blindly, almost hopeful.
With a coldness which matched her own, and which he felt as deliciously provocative as the tenderest badinage of love, he said, 'will you get her dough?
Lindsay smiled faintly and respondingly and her hand sought his.
'Not unless I stay till the end.
'And how near is the end? Lindsay shrugged her shoulders.
'She pretends to be old, doesn't she, said Randall, 'and she isn't really so old at all. Do you think she's ill?
'She's not ill. She'll live forever.
'Hmm, said Randall. 'Then we must think of something else.
'You must think of something else.
'You're bloody helpful, aren't you. He squeezed her hand. 'I tell you one thing. I must go to bed with you soon, my darling, or I'll die of unreality. The two of you have made me into a bloody dream object. I've got to have you Lindsay, or I shall just cease to be. So I suggest the programme is, first we go to bed, then I get hold of some money, then we think what to do next.
'No, said Lindsay, withdrawing her hand again. 'The programme is, first you think, then you get the money, — then we go to bed.
'Ah, he said, 'you're going to put me to the question. He trembled but he adored her for it. 'Yes?
She said impatiently, 'Yes, if you will!
He would, he would. He murmured submissively, 'You are a tormentor —’
'Oh, don't be so feeble, Randall, Lindsay said with irritation. She looked at her watch. 'It's time for us to go back now.
'Not already, said Randall. 'God! He regarded her, frowning. 'Suppose I were just to take you away now, not to let you go back?
'You couldn't, she said simply, rising.
It was so patently true that Randall did not even trouble to think in what sense it was true. He followed her dejectedly out of the pub.
'Don't look so hangdog, said Lindsay, thrusting her Ann through his as they went up the hill. 'After all, you must think, mustn't you? You must count the cost in detail. You may not really want me at all. Think of all that lovely furniture at Grayhallock!
'You bitch, said Randall softly. 'I count the cost day and night. Miranda. Everything. I've counted, and I want you, as you bloody well know.
'Miranda, said Lindsay. 'Yes. She sighed a long sigh and leaned more heavily upon his Ann.
He knew that she feared this topic and he was at once in a flurry lest he should have discouraged her. He did not want to have thrown into her consciousness any hard thing round which hostility to him might quietly collect. He said, 'That will be all right, you know. Miranda is nearly grown up and she's a very wise little person. You'll see. You'll like her and she'll like you.
'I doubt that, said Lindsay. 'But never mind. There, there! Never mind.
They reached the door of the flats and paused in the dark vestibule.
He took her two hands now, regarded her, and then took her slowly in a strong embrace. A moment later, as he almost groaned aloud with desire, he wondered why, in that sacred hour, he had accepted her idea of going to the pub, instead of taking her by taxi to his little room in Chelsea. But that was just another thing that, in that undefined way, he couldn't do. Then he felt in the sway of her body to his such an unambiguous answer to his fierceness that he became unaware of all else.
'Randall, Randall, she whispered, as if waking him from a long sleep, and gently undid his clasp. 'Come, she said.
'No, said Randall. 'I'm not coming in. You em go alone.
'She'll be disappointed if you don't come. Don't displease her. She's an old lady.
Randall hesitated. 'No, he said again. He could feel himself swelling with strength. 'I'll come tomorrow. But not now. I want to be quite alone now and think about you. I don't want this lovely piece of your presence to be spoiled before I quite make it over into my soul.
'Think, yes, she murmured. 'But not about me. Think practical thoughts, will you, Randall darling, practical thoughts.
Subdued by her tenderness he said 'Yes, yes, yes. And with a sort of triumph born of his recent abstention he watched her go down the long corridor. The green door opened and shut again and all was silence. He waited a minute or two. What in the world were they saying to each other now?
Chapter Fourteen
'THE Reverend Swann! Miranda announced with a giggle, putting her head round the door. She: never tired of this simple jest. She could then be heard pounding away down the stairs.
Ann was dusting Randall's room. She paused now with the duster in her hand. She did not want to see Douglas. She desired to stay quiet and melancholy, to be: left alone. The melancholy itself was a sort of precious achievement. She came sometimes to Randall's room, though never without a pretext. She looked about her for a moment before going down. The sun shone brightly into the small bright room. Everything was neat. The little row of gold-rimmed Dresden cups stood in descending order on the mantelpiece. The bright blue bird-woven William
