DARK HESTER
hand, pressing them together, tossing them out of sight under the densely growing autumnal plants, and she felt herself quieted by his silent comprehending presence.
‘Give up hope; that’s your trouble,’ it seemed to be saying to her. ‘You were foolish enough, my poor friend, to allow yourself hope a little while ago. There’s no place for it, at our age. If you didn’t go on hoping you would not suffer so.’ But he himself said nothing.
Presently they walked back towards the house together. The fountain still held its quivering silver lance against the sky. ‘And you think the fish are all right?’ said Monica in a deadened voice. ‘Robin is a sad little boy. He expects things to die. I don’t want to run any risks with the fish.’
‘They won’t die. They’re all right,’ said Ingpen absently, his eyes on her. ‘He’s not like you, the little boy, is he? You expect things to go on.’
‘I want them to go on; — something of them to go on — desperately,’ said Monica in a low voice. She was betraying herself to Captain Ingpen. She was saying exactly what he expected her to say. But he would not mock her now. He was suffering with her. He walked on with her to the gate. ‘Yes. He’s sad; but you’re desperate,’ was what he said.
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