Under that gaze, which for all its cool hardness, was so furiously
alive, neither Lord nor Lady Valleys could keep quite still. It was as
if she had stripped from them the well-bred mask of those whose spirits,
by long unquestioning acceptance of themselves, have become inelastic,
inexpansive, commoner than they knew. In fact a rather awful moment!
Then Barbara said:
"If there's nothing else, I'm going to bed. Goodnight!"
And as calmly as she had come in, she went out.
When she had regained her room, she locked the door, threw off her
cloak, and looked at herself in the glass. With pleasure she saw how
firmly her teeth were clenched, how her breast was heaving, and how her
eyes seemed to be stabbing herself. And all the time she thought:
"Very well! My dears! Very well!"
CHAPTER XXV
In that mood of rebellious mortification she fell asleep. And, curiously
enough, dreamed not of him whom she had in mind been so furiously
defending, but of Harbinger. She fancied herself in prison, lying in a
cell fashioned like the drawing-room at Sea house; and in the next cell,
into which she could somehow look, Harbinger was digging at the wall
with his nails. She could distinctly see the hair on the back of his
hands, and hear him breathing. The hole he was making grew larger and
larger. Her heart began to beat furiously; she awoke.
Pages:
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335