‘As I said, a mistake. Then it was the woman herself who was changed. ‘Here we go again. He saw her young and graceful back as she descended from the carriage, severely ignoring him, and recalled a glimpse he had of her face, bright and serene, as his train ran out of Wimbledon. And I have seen work by his pupils myself that struck me as being—well, next door to shameful. And, if Rachel had not carried a candle, the room would have been plunged in total darkness. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. Now keep still. “What can one say?” she exclaimed. It must have cut him. ‘I see that Leonardo was right. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. 192 Her skirt had ridden almost to her hips.
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