DARK HESTER
weighing it and found it heavy. ‘Sacrifice, Mummy? There’s no question of that. I must have blundered badly to lead you to think that. Who wants a sacrifice made for them?’
Who indeed? ‘I only meant that it is so much to accept from your young lives.—I must be very worthy of it.’ Monica spoke as carefully as though picking her way amidst hot ploughshares.
‘Worthy! Don’t, Mummy!’
They had begun to walk, rapidly, down the hill.
‘But that really is the word, Clive. You show me how much it is the word. You show me how wonderful Hester has been in it all. I must be worthy of her; that is what I mean.’
Yes; she must heap Hester with garlands, lest he should guess at her ingratitude. But she saw as she walked so swiftly beside him and heard the heavy beating of her heart that her bitterness had betrayed her. She had shown Clive to himself as asking something of her instead of giving her something. She had spoiled everything for him, as he had for her: but it was a mother’s part to hide from him what he had done and she had failed to hide it. Everything was spoiled, unless she could find at once an issue, and summoning all her resource, all her strength and strategy, she went on: ‘You know, London means a
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