The Hollow

‘It’s possible.’

‘One never knows,’ said Henrietta slowly, ‘what goes on in Lucy’s head.’ Then she asked, ‘What have you been doing with yourself, Edward, since I saw you last?’

‘Nothing, Henrietta.’

‘That sounds very peaceful.’

‘I’ve never been very good at—doing things.’

She threw him a quick glance. There had been something in his tone. But he was smiling at her quietly.

And again she felt that rush of deep affection.

‘Perhaps,’ she said, ‘you are wise.’

‘Wise?’

‘Not to do things.’

Edward said slowly, ‘That’s an odd thing for you to say, Henrietta. You, who’ve been so successful.’

‘Do you think of me as successful? How funny.’

‘But you are, my dear. You’re an artist. You must be proud of yourself; you can’t help being.’

‘I know,’ said Henrietta. ‘A lot of people say that to me. They don’t understand—they don’t understand the first thing about it. You don’t, Edward. Sculpture isn’t a thing you set out to do and succeed in. It’s a thing that gets at you, that nags at you—and haunts you—so that you’ve got, sooner or later, to make terms with it. And then, for a bit, you get some peace—until the whole thing starts over again.’

‘Do you want to be peaceful, Henrietta?’

‘Sometimes I think I want to be peaceful more than anything in the world, Edward!’

‘You could be peaceful at Ainswick. I think you could be happy there. Even—even if you had to put up with me. What about it, Henrietta? Won’t you come to Ainswick and make it your home? It’s always been there, you know, waiting for you.’

Henrietta turned her head slowly. She said in a low voice:

‘I wish I wasn’t so dreadfully fond of you, Edward. It makes it so very much harder to go on saying No.’

‘It is No, then?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘You’ve said No before—but this time—well, I thought it might be different. You’ve been happy this afternoon, Henrietta. You can’t deny that.’

‘I’ve been very happy.’

‘Your face even—it’s younger than it was this morning.’

‘I know.’

‘We’ve been happy together, talking about Ainswick, thinking about Ainswick. Don’t you see what that means, Henrietta?’

‘It’s you who don’t see what it means, Edward! We’ve been living all this afternoon in the past.’

‘The past is sometimes a very good place to live.’

‘One can’t go back. That’s the one thing one can’t do—go back.’

He was silent for a minute or two. Then he said in a quiet, pleasant and quite unemotional voice:

‘What you really mean is that you won’t marry me because of John Christow?’

Henrietta did not answer, and Edward went on:

‘That’s it, isn’t it? If there were no John Christow in the world you would marry me.’

Henrietta said harshly, ‘I can’t imagine a world in which there was no John Christow! That’s what you’ve got to understand.’

‘If it’s like that, why on earth doesn’t the fellow get a divorce from his wife and then you could marry?’

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