His tone was indifferent, with a slight edge to it. He went on:
“Of course, Elinor, if you’ve other ideas now….”
Elinor cried out:
“Oh, Roddy, can’t you be honest?”
He winced.
Then he said in a low, bewildered voice:
“I don’t know what’s happened to me….”
Elinor said in a stifled voice:
“I do….”
He said quickly:
“Perhaps it’s true, that. I don’t after all, quite like the idea of living on my wife’s money….”
Elinor, her face white, said:
“It’s not that… It’s something else…” She paused, then she said, “It’s—Mary, isn’t it?”
Roddy murmured unhappily:
“I suppose so. How did you know?”
Elinor said, her mouth twisting sideways in a crooked smile:
“It wasn’t difficult… Every time you look at her—it’s there in your face for anyone to read….”
Suddenly his composure broke.
“Oh, Elinor—I don’t know what’s the matter! I think I’m going mad! It happened when I saw her—that first day—in the wood…just her face—it’s—it’s turned everything upside down. You can’t understand that….”
Elinor said:
“Yes, I can. Go on.”
Roddy said helplessly:
“I didn’t want to fall in love with her… I was quite happy with you. Oh, Elinor, what a cad I am, talking like this to you….”
Elinor said:
“Nonsense. Go on. Tell me….”
He said brokenly:
“You’re wonderful… Talking to you helps frightfully. I’m so terribly fond of you, Elinor! You must believe that. This other thing is like an enchantment! It’s upset everything: my conception of life—and my enjoyment of things—and—all the decent ordered reasonable things….”
Elinor said gently:
“Love—isn’t very reasonable….”
Roddy said miserably: