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Updated: May 10, 2025
Marlow nodded solemnly; he had never really liked the Grimmers, and he knew that, several times lately, Ethel had gone out of her way to annoy his wife, whilst Grimmer himself had behaved like a fool over the Gold Dredging Company, actually hinting that, because they knew each other socially, he ought to have been warned when the thing was going wrong.
His own world, the Griersons and Marlows and Grimmers, would have called him either mad or hopelessly immoral, according to the degree of charity latent in their respective natures; Kelly would have warned him bluntly not to endanger his prospects by being a fool; a mental specialist would have explained that the shock of John Locke's death, coming on top of the ten years of almost continual overstrain in bad climates, had temporarily affected his balance, an opinion with which Lalage herself would have agreed, knowing, after all, nothing of men's love; but neither opinions nor diagnosis would have altered Jimmy's determination.
Men in her world, which was, after all, his own world too, did not do those things. He saw it now. Before the Grimmers came down it had been different.
He had the cutting from the Record in his pocket-book, ready for her or any of the other guests to see, but it remained there until the evening, and when he dressed to go to the Grimmers' he left it behind deliberately. He was not going to risk another snub. On entering the Grimmer drawing-room, however, Ethel met him with a copy of the paper in her hand.
He woke up next morning with his sense of grievance still unabated; and his disappointment changed to something very like anger when May called him into her boudoir after breakfast, and proceeded to cross-examine him as to whom he had met at the Grimmers'.
"Old friends of yours at Drylands, after all?" the doctor asked abruptly, as they sat smoking in his study after dinner. Jimmy nodded. "Yes, you got the name wrong, you see, and, naturally, I didn't recognise it. I've known the Grimmers, or at least Mrs. Grimmer, all my life." "It's a bad thing to get out of touch with people you know," the other went on. "A very bad thing.
But after that, I did not see him again until I came down here with the Grimmers. Still, he's a very old friend of Ethel's Mrs. Grimmer, I mean and his people are parishioners of my father's." "Does he often go down to see his people?" Mrs. Richards asked, a new suspicion breaking on her mind. Vera shook her head.
Did you ever hear of such a thing! It seems the Grimmers have been staying quite close to Jimmy's cottage, and Ethel had Vera down on purpose at least I'm sure she did. I had no idea they had met Jimmy. He never mentioned it in his last letter, nor did Ethel when I met her in town." Henry Marlow had put down the evening paper and was staring at his wife solemnly.
She did not want Jimmy to go to the Grimmers', but it was impossible to deny the engagement with the Foulgers, and equally impossible to say that Jimmy was going there with her Ethel Grimmer knew how many people the Foulger dining table would seat; so she gave in, and Jimmy arranged to go, showing rather more eagerness over his acceptance than May considered necessary.
I don't know the man personally; but Bateman and Knowles and one or two men who do know him say the same. I hear he's been better lately, though, since the Grimmers took Drylands. Perhaps he was lonely, or something like that. He knew very few people then, and it must have been horribly dull for him." "I don't see that there is any excuse in that." Mrs. Richards' voice was unusually severe.
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