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She paused a moment, wondering. Should she go in? No; she remembered Mrs. Cheriton's words, "It may be that you are not to do it, after all," and she went into her own room and shut the door. It might have been half an hour after that she heard a whispering in the hall outside, and then a knock at her door. She ran to open it, and stood amazed.
He liked things to go easily and smoothly always. He had winced at the crash of glass on marble; it seemed to him in such bad taste. This, no doubt, was his attitude towards the whole business; towards the Magerisons' behaviour, Cheriton's exposure of it, and this final naked, shameful scene of accusation and confession.
He was all for walking round the island at a great pace and seeing how long it took him. So superfluously energetic, isn't he? Fancy being energetic in Venice." Peter was thankful that he was. The thought of Cheriton's eyes upon him made him shudder. "He has his good points," Urquhart added; "but he excites himself too much. Always taking up some violent crusade against something or other.
He looked extraordinarily agitated; his delicate face was flushed crimson. Denis was lying back in a low chair, characteristically at ease. When Leslie and Peter came in, Cheriton stopped speaking, and Lord Evelyn stopped pacing, and absolute silence momentarily fell. Then Denis gave his pleasant, casual "Hullo." Cheriton's silence continued. But Lord Evelyn's did not.
And so for a long time I kept at the furthest distance possible, in such a war, from the vexing of the air with cannons, till even Colonel Cheriton's daughters perfectly soft and peaceful girls began to despise me as a coward. Knowing what I had been through, I indulged their young opinions.
Cheriton's mind and sympathies were as quick and alert as if she were still a young woman, instead of being near the rounding of the completed century. She listened with kindly interest, and her wise and tender words cleared away many of the cobwebs of anxiety that beset Margaret's sky. "Let patience have her perfect work!" she was fond of saying.
"I must go and talk to that man," he said. "He's lodging with my brother." The situation for a moment was slightly difficult. Leslie and Urquhart had both heard Cheriton's description of Peter's brother's lodger. Besides, they had seen him, and that was enough. It was unlike Peter to make awkward situations.
Can't live and let live. Another dome here, I think." Peter wondered if Cheriton's latest crusade was against Hilary's taste in art, and if so what Urquhart thought on that subject. It was an uncomfortable thought. He characteristically turned away from it.
We've been studying the original exhaustively, Leslie and I." "A very fine and remarkable building," said Leslie, ponderously, and Peter laughed for the sheer pleasure of seeing Urquhart's lazy length stretched on the warm sand. "Cheriton's somewhere about," said Urquhart. "But he wouldn't help me with St. Mark's.
He wanted to get out of Lord Evelyn's house, out of the range of his kindly, whimsical smile and Cheriton's curious hostile stare; he wanted to be alone with Hilary, and to understand. The irony of Cheriton's look increased during bridge; it was certainly justified by the abstraction of Peter's play. Lord Evelyn laughed at him. "You need Denis to keep you in order, young Peter.
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