That can be easily arranged."
Jasper Penny was not thinking of the material Essie, the present,
concrete problem; but he was once more absorbed in the manner in which
her influence followed, apparently shaped, his existence. He was again
appalled by the vitality of the past; the phrase itself was an error,
there was no past. All that had gone, that was to come, met ceaselessly
in the present, a confusion of hope and regret. It was evident that he
would have to see Essie again, and explain that what she had from him
depended entirely on her reciprocal attitude. This could only be
satisfactory in person. He would go to her at once, to-day. An enormous
reluctance to enter her house again possessed him. The mere act had the
aspect of an acknowledgment of her continued potency, her influence over
him. He put it off as long as possible, and it was past five when he
finally walked slowly toward her door.
She was in; and he saw, on the hall stand, a silk hat and overcoat cut
in an extreme of current fashion. The servant preceded him above, toward
the room usual for casual gatherings; and he heard a sudden low murmur,
expostulation, follow the announcement of his name. Essie Scofield
appeared at the top of the stairs. "Come up," she said in a hesitating,
sullen voice.
Pages:
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255