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I've often thought the same thing. Distances are sublime." "The distances in the desert make me feel far more like that than any other distances. The desert has taught me so much it is a wonderful mother." Michael's eyes answered her. "Looking at that distance makes me wish I hadn't been so wicked in my heart about Mrs. Mervill.
But in the meantime a report has been spread abroad that he has taken a woman with him, a Mrs. Mervill. Have you heard of her?" "Millicent Mervill? I know her!" "Well, she is in love with him. You know how beautiful she is. . . ." Margaret's voice lost its steadiness. "Yes, and also I know how thoroughly lacking in morals. She is very well-known by this time.
She knew by the way he was speaking that he was quite glad to help her, now that he had got over the disagreeable business of telling her and warning her, that his efforts would be turned now towards the finding of Michael's whereabouts and dotting to the bottom of the gossip. She looked up with cheerful eyes. "Do you remember that day, Freddy, when Millicent Mervill lunched here?" "Rather!"
Yet in spite of his good looks and astonishing colouring, Meg was right in her consciousness that for women there was more magnetic attraction in Mike's mobile plainness, in his sensitive, irregular features. When the two men were talking together, the senses and eyes of women would be drawn to the plain man. During lunch Millicent Mervill was very good.
He felt sorely annoyed with the fates which made it impossible for him to give Mrs. Mervill all that she asked of him and at the same time continue on the footing on which he had been with Margaret. And how was it that he could not? How was it that Margaret had instantly divined that there was more than an ordinary or desirable intimacy between Mrs. Mervill and himself?
It had even found its way into The Thousand and One Nights. Mrs. Mervill was much more word-fluent than Margaret. Often her imagery was charming. "Because it fills my heart, Michael. It is the background of everything. I saw the birth of hatred in her eyes she has never hated before." "I don't think she knows what hate means," he said, "and I wish you would leave her alone."
It was served in the native fashion, in small enamelled brass bowls, on a brass tray. When he handed the tray to Mrs. Mervill he pointed to a small object lying beside her cup. "Lady, I find antika all safe." Millicent's heart beat more quickly; a little deeper rose warmed her cheeks. She picked up the eye of blue faience from the brass tray with well-assumed delight.
"Why should any woman be divorced because she lives the same life as her husband does when he is apart from her?" "You don't, and aren't going to," Michael said earnestly. "I would, Michael, with you only with you." "I wish you could have been friends with Miss Lampton instead of hating her," he said sadly. "Pouf!" Millicent Mervill cried.
"What a brown study!" a taunting voice said. "Come and have a cup of tea." "No, thanks," Michael said. "I'm not dressed for this sort of thing." He indicated the gaily-dressed crowd. "I insist," Millicent Mervill said, and as she spoke, she stretched out her hand and nipped out the book Michael had in his coat-pocket. "Now you'll have to come and get it, and I'll order tea.
If Millicent Mervill was with him, he did not for one moment believe that even Mike would be proof against such temptation. "If he is ill," Meg said, "the Iretons will find out. They are in such close touch with native life. Anyhow, they understood Mike and I want to see them." Meg's last words were a little cry. Freddy could only feel pity for her, although her words stung him.
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