He put his hand over his forehead, as though his head were aching, and she had a feeling that in his brain too those words hammered madly: I don’t know, I don’t know. It was strange that this moody, cold and shy man should have such a natural affection for very little babies; most men didn’t care much even for their own, but the nuns, touched and a little amused, had more than once spoken of it. If he felt like that about those funny little Chinese babies what would he have felt about his own? Kitty bit her lips in order to prevent herself from crying again.
He looked at his watch.
“I’m afraid I must go back to the city. I have a great deal to do today. … Shall you be all right?”
“Oh, yes. Don’t bother about me.”
“I think you’d better not wait for me this evening. I may be very late and I’ll get something to eat from Colonel Yü.”
“Very well.”
He rose.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t try to do anything today. You’d better take it easy. Is there anything you want before I go?”
“No, thanks. I shall be quite all right.”
He paused for an instant, as though he were undecided, and then, abruptly and without looking at her, took his hat and walked out of the room. She heard him go through the compound. She felt terribly alone. There was no need for self-restraint now and she gave herself up to a passion of tears.
LVII
The night was sultry and Kitty sat at the window looking at the fantastic roofs, dark against the starlight, of the Chinese temple, when at last Walter came in. Her eyes were heavy with weeping, but she was composed. Notwithstanding all there was to harass her she felt, perhaps only from exhaustion, strangely at peace.
“I thought you’d be already in bed,” said Walter as he came in.
“I wasn’t sleepy. I thought it cooler to sit up. Have you had any dinner?”
“All I want.”
He walked up and down the long room and she saw that he had something to say to her. She knew that he was embarrassed. Without concern she waited for him to summon up his resolution. He began abruptly.
“I’ve been thinking about what you told me this afternoon. It seems to me that it would be better if you went away. I have spoken to Colonel Yü and he will give you an escort. You could take the amah with you. You will be quite safe.”
“Where is there for me to go?”
“You can go to your mother’s.”
“Do you think she would be pleased to see me?”
He paused for a moment, hesitating, as though for reflection.
“Then you can go to Hong Kong.”
“What should I do there?”
“You will need a good deal of care and attention. I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to stay here.”
She could not prevent the smile, not only of bitterness but of frank amusement, that crossed her face. She gave him a glance and very nearly laughed.
“I don’t know why you should be so anxious about my health.”
He came over to the window and stood looking out at the night. There had never been so many stars in the unclouded sky.
“This isn’t the place for a woman in your condition.”
She looked at him, white in his thin clothes against the darkness; there was something sinister in his fine profile, and yet oddly enough at this moment it excited in her no fear.
“When you insisted on my coming here did you want it to kill me?” she asked suddenly.
He was so long answering that she thought he had refused to hear.
“At first.”
She gave a little shudder, for it was the first time he had admitted his intention. But she bore him no ill will for it. Her feeling surprised herself; there was a certain admiration in it and a faint amusement. She did not quite know why, but suddenly thinking of Charlie Townsend he seemed to her an abject fool.
“It was a terrible risk you were taking,” she answered. “With your sensitive conscience I wonder if you could ever have forgiven yourself if I had died.”
“Well, you haven’t. You’ve thrived on it.”
“I’ve never felt better in my life.”
She had an instinct to throw herself on the mercy of his humour. After all they had gone through, when they were living amid these scenes of horror and desolation, it seemed inept to attach importance to the ridiculous act of fornication. When death stood round the corner, taking lives like a gardener digging up potatoes, it was foolishness to care what dirty things this person or that did with his body. If she could only make him realise how little Charlie meant to her, so that now already she had difficulty in calling up his features to her imagination, and how entirely the love of him had passed out of her heart! Because she had no feeling for Townsend the various acts she had committed with him had lost their significance. She had regained her heart and what she had given of her body seemed not to matter a rap. She was inclined to say to Walter: “Look here, don’t you think we’ve been silly long enough? We’ve sulked with one another like children. Why can’t we kiss and be friends. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be friends just because we’re not lovers.”
He stood very still and the lamplight made the pallor of his impassive face startling. She did not trust him; if she said the wrong thing he would turn upon her with such an icy sternness. She knew by now his extreme sensitiveness, for which his acid irony was a protection, and how quickly he could close his heart if his feelings were hurt. She had a moment’s irritation at his stupidity. Surely what troubled him most was the wound
