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Updated: June 6, 2025
He had pretended not to see his doubt and not to mind it. And he had seen it, as he saw everything, and he had minded awfully. Then came Viola's illness, which you could put down to Reggie's doubt. And after that it had been Viola pretty nearly all the time. And even at Ghent, by the tortures of anxiety she had caused him, you may say that she had spoiled his ecstasy.
A voice which nobody would have recognized as Reggie's put a sudden end to this frantic assault. He was standing in the doorway smiling queerly. He had watched the two from the garden, whence indeed all Chuzenji could have seen them in the open bedroom. He had slipped off his shoes and had stolen up quietly in order to listen to them. Now he judged it time to intervene.
During supper we, of course, on Reggie's account, said nothing of Nora's fright, but as soon as it was over, Reggie declaring himself very sleepy, we got him undressed and put to bed on the settee originally intended for Nora. He was asleep in five minutes, and then Nora and I did our utmost to arrive at the explanation we so longed for.
Beside Reggie's accomplishment he looked mean and pitiful and a little vulgar. God forgive me for putting it down, but that is how he looked. And once or twice, under the strain of it, he dropped an aitch with the most disconcerting effect. I often wonder what Pavitt thought of that family party.
Sir Francis asked, looking across the table at his brother as they sat down to their soup. Of course Reggie remembered. "Where do you suppose Mr. William Day is spending his evening?" Reggie paused with his spoon on its way to his mouth to say he hoped in the bosom of Mr. William Day's family. "He is spending it in prison." The spoon fell back into its plate, and Reggie's face grew white.
"You were telling me a diverting story about an Irishman who landed in New York looking for work, sir. You would like a glass of lemonade, sir? Very good, sir." Alice placed a hand gently on Reggie's arm. "Don't you think you had better lie down for a little and rest, Mr. Byng? I'm sure it would do you good." The solicitous note in her voice made Reggie quiver like a jelly.
After lunch he changed into a kimono of Reggie's. Then he lay down on his bed and was soon fast asleep. How long he slept he could not say; but he awoke slowly out of confusing dreams. Somebody was in his room. Somebody was near his bed. Was it Asako? Was it a dream? No, it was his comrade of the morning's voyage. It was Yaé Smith. She was sitting on the bed beside him.
If Reggie's tolerant and experienced mind could not rid itself of the picture conjured up by the possibility of his friend's treachery and his mistress's lightness, how could Asako, ignorant and untried, hope to escape from a far more insistent obsession? She believed that her husband was guilty.
Reggie listened patiently when the office work was over, and encouraged him. At other times Riley insisted on Reggie's reading the Bible and grim "Methody" tracts to him. Out of these tracts he pointed morals directed at his Manager. But he always found time to worry Reggie about the working of the Bank, and to show him where the weak points lay.
'What is it, Allan? asked the others, crowding around. 'Nothing, he said; 'nothing at all. I don't think any one has been here; it's all fancy. Reggie's eyes looked very much astonished at this change of front. 'Come along, said Allan impatiently; 'it's time we went home, and he swept them out of the cottage with so much decision that they obeyed, looking at him with puzzled faces.
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