The time for being jealous
Susy had let her lace cloak slide to her feet, and stood beforehim in the faintly-lit room, slim and shimmering-white throughblack transparencies.
She raised her eyebrows carelessly. "I told you long ago he’dasked us there for August.""You didn’t tell me you’d accepted."She smiled as if he had said something as simple as Fred. "Iaccepted everything–from everybody!"What could he answer? It was the very principle on which theirbargain had been struck. And if he were to say: "Ah, but thisis different, because I’m jealous of Gillow," what light wouldsuch an answer shed on his past? The time for being jealous-ifso antiquated an attitude were on any ground defensible-wouldhave been before his marriage, and before the acceptance of thebounties which had helped to make it possible. He wondered alittle now that in those days such scruples had not troubledhim. His inconsistency irritated him, and increased hisirritation against Gillow. "I suppose he thinks he owns us!" hegrumbled inwardly.
He had thrown himself into an armchair, and Susy, advancingacross the shining arabesques of the floor, slid down at hisfeet, pressed her slender length against him, and whispered withlifted face and lips close to his: "We needn’t ever go anywhereyou don’t want to." For once her submission was sweet, andfolding her close he whispered back through his kiss: "Notthere, then."In her response to his embrace he felt the acquiescence of herwhole happy self in whatever future he decided on, if only itgave them enough of such moments as this; and as they held eachother fast in silence his doubts and distrust began to seem likea silly injustice.
"Let us stay here as long as ever Ellie will let us," he said,as if the shadowy walls and shining floors were a magic boundarydrawn about his happiness.
She murmured her assent and stood up, stretching her sleepy armabove her shoulders. "How dreadfully late it is …. Will youunhook me? … Oh, there’s a telegram."She picked it up from the table, and tearing it open stared amoment at the message. "It’s from Ellie. She’s coming to-morrow."She turned to the window and strayed out onto the balcony. Nickfollowed her with enlacing arm. The canal below them lay inmoonless shadow, barred with a few lingering lights. A lastsnatch of gondola-music came from far off, carried upward on asultry gust.
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