Chapter 4

There was a slow asthmatic wheezing¹ cough—then the monumental knitting woman spoke².

‘Ginevra, you’re tired, you’d better go to bed.’

The girl started, her fingers stopped their mechanical action. ‘I’m not tired, Mother.’

Gerard recognized appreciatively the musical quality of her voice. It had the sweet singingquality that lends enchantment³ to the most commonplace utterances⁴.

‘Yes, you are. I always know. I don’t think you’ll be able to do any sightseeing tomorrow.’

‘Oh! but I shall. I’m quite all right.’

In a thick hoarse⁵ voice—almost a grating voice, her mother said: ‘No, you’re not. You’re goingto be ill.’

‘I’m not! I’m not!’

The girl began trembling violently.

A soft, calm voice said: ‘I’ll come up with you, Jinny.’

The quiet young woman with wide, thoughtful grey eyes and neatly-coiled dark hair rose to herfeet.

Old Mrs Boynton said: ‘No. Let her go up alone.’

The girl cried: ‘I want Nadine to come!’

‘Then of course I will.’ The young woman moved a step forward.

The old woman said: ‘The child prefers to go by herself—don’t you, Jinny?’

There was a pause—a pause of a moment, then Ginevra Boynton said, her voice suddenly flatand dull:

‘Yes; I’d rather go alone. Thank you, Nadine.’

She moved away, a tall angular figure that moved with a surprising grace.

Dr Gerard lowered his paper and took a full satisfying gaze at old Mrs Boynton. She waslooking after her daughter and her fat face was creased⁶ into a peculiar⁷ smile. It was, very faintly, acaricature of the lovely unearthly smile that had transformed the girl’s face so short a time before.

Then the old woman transferred her gaze to Nadine. The latter had just sat down again. Sheraised her eyes and met her mother-in-law’s glance. Her face was quite imperturbable⁸. The oldwoman’s glance was malicious⁹.

Dr Gerard thought: ‘What an absurdity¹⁰ of an old tyrant¹¹!’

And then, suddenly, the old woman’s eyes were full on him, and he drew in his breath sharply.

Small black smouldering eyes they were, but something came from them, a power, a definiteforce, a wave of evil malignancy. Dr Gerard knew something about the power of personality. Herealized that this was no spoilt tyrannical invalid¹² indulging petty whims¹³. This old woman was adefinite force. In the malignancy of her glare he felt a resemblance to the effect produced by acobra. Mrs Boynton might be old, infirm, a prey¹⁴ to disease, but she was not powerless. She was awoman who knew the meaning of power, who had exercised a lifetime of power and who hadnever once doubted her own force. Dr Gerard had once met a woman who performed a mostdangerous and spectacular act with tigers. The great slinking brutes¹⁵ had crawled to their places andperformed their degrading and humiliating tricks. Their eyes and subdued¹⁶ snarls¹⁷ told of hatred¹⁸,bitter fanatical hatred, but they had obeyed, cringed. That had been a young woman, a womanwith an arrogant¹⁹ dark beauty, but the look had been the same.

‘Une dompteuse,’ said Dr Gerard to himself.

And he understood now what that undercurrent to the harmless family talk had been. It washatred—a dark eddying²⁰ stream of hatred.

He thought: ‘How fanciful and absurd most people would think me! Here is a commonplacedevoted American family reveling in Palestine—and I weave a story of black magic round it!’

Then he looked with interest at the quiet young woman who was called Nadine. There was awedding ring on her left hand, and as he watched her he saw her give one swift betraying glance atthe fair-haired, loose-limbed Lennox. He knew, then…They were man and wife, those two. But it was a mother’s glance rather than a wife’s—a truemother’s glance—protecting, anxious. And he knew something more. He knew that, alone out ofthat group, Nadine Boynton was unaffected by her mother-in-law’s spell. She may have dislikedthe old woman, but she was not afraid of her. The power did not touch her.

She was unhappy, deeply concerned about her husband, but she was free.

Dr Gerard said to himself: ‘All this is very interesting.’

 

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