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She had the power of casting troubles behind, recuperative power, resiliency. Glyde, the olive- faced, watched them down the walk, and owned to a heart of lead. "As well shut down the west wind as a spirit like hers!" He turned to his affair. Below the steps, in the nut-walk which led to the bridge, Chevenix altered his tone. "It's good of you to come with me, Sancie, my dear.
He looked at her directly. "Oh, I was, you know. Otherwise, I guess I should have written. I was idiotically happy. And you?" "I was busy," she told him, "idiotically busy." He laughed gaily. "That's one for me and a shrewd one. Oh, you deep-eyed scamp! Sancie, you never give yourself away. I've noticed that many and many a time. And not I only, I can assure you. Bill Chevenix, now "
There's such a lot to be done here." "Yes, yes, my dear," said Chevenix with some irritation. "No doubt there is. But you can't afford it." He stammered out his next. "I should like to say, Sancie, that there's nobody on earth I respect for whom I have more respect than for you. I don't understand your point of view don't pretend to. But I know a fine thing when I see it.
"And you can speak with your eyes, my dear; none better. Your tongue was never very loose; but your eyes! Now, you know what you can do with them, Sancie; you know very well. Speak to me, then, my dear, speak to me. Speak to me only with thine ... no, not only!
"Had a good day, Sancie?" he asked, after a while of gazing. "Very good," she said. "Saw your man?" "Yes, I saw him." "Mad as ever?" "Ah," she said, "who is mad?" "Well, my dear, if he is not, we are. That's certain. What have you done with Bill Chevenix?" "He's gone home to dress. He will be here directly." "I hope," said Ingram, "he played the perfect squire."
Percival, nodding, patting her hand, put in a gentle remonstrance. "I shouldn't say that, Sancie, I shouldn't indeed. It used to be considered everything in the world, to a woman." She mused, then decided. "No. I can't understand that. It's not everything in the world. It's almost nothing compared to other things like freedom. To me the only thing that seems to matter is one's mind.
You never forget it the clergyman, and the altar, and the hymns. You're all in white veiled. And you kneel there before the altar and he holds your hand. And the ring, oh, Sancie, the feeling of the ring!" She opened her little hand and looked down at the smoothed gold, coiled below the diamonds and pearls. "You never forget the first feel of that. It means everything!"
Yes, he could see that she remembered. Dear, sweet Sancie! There was bravado here on his part, and nervousness to be discerned beneath it; for it is most certain that her reverie was not exactly as he would have it. Her chin was in her hand, her caught other hand lay idle in his own; her eyes were far-gazing and sombre; her smile was bleak.
Oh, and old brandy the very old. Nothing of the sort to be had in India. The climate kills it. He stood very close to her as he spoke. When he remembered the brandy he put his hand on her shoulder, and finding it there, kept it so. Minnie presently went out of the room upon affairs; and then he looked into her face and said in a new tone, "How are you, Sancie?"
But I want to see Sancie Percival again. I was awfully fond of her of the whole lot of them." He reflected, as .a man might deliberate upon familiar things, and discover them to be wonders. "What a family they were, by Jove! Five of the loveliest girls a man could meet with. Melusine, what a girl she was! Married Tubby Scales fat chap with a cigar. Vicky, now. How about Vicky?
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