losing her temper, but she had been provoked. She had done something she had never done before ... she had slapped a man ’ s face—and even now in the midst of regret she was conscious of a certain primitive satisfaction.
She knew that the hurt would have been more than physical as far as Stuart was concerned. He had always prided himself on being able to bring his victims to the very brink of losing their self - control and then would hold them there trembling on the edge helplessly by the sheer force of his personality until he became bored and would release them with a mocking laugh. This was the first time she had fought back, and in some strange way it seemed to set her free. She could face without self-loathing the realization that perhaps there had been som e thing in what he said ... that in the beginning she had been unconsciously attracted to him because of some fancied resemblance to Irving, the boy she had loved so wholeheartedly for that long-ago summer.
Elizabeth sighed and poked the fire into cheerfulness and plugged in the electric kettle. It was as if she had suddenly grown up, become adult and mature, stepped from carefree twenty to a though t ful forty all in the space of an hour, and to her astonishment it wasn ’ t nearly as painful as she would have imagined. It must be the way the buds felt in the spring when they split their stiff coats of winter and began to unfold their delicate leaves: she began to smile at the very thought and found herself laughing. Poor Stuart. She had been rather unkind to him, not only now b u t in the past. She was sorry, but being sorry wasn ’ t going to make her change her mind, she told herself stubbornly. He shouldn ’ t have said that about William Gregory either ... it was completely uncalled for, especially as she had met the man for the first time this miming.
Elizabeth made the tea, and while she was waiting for it to brew, her thoughts left William Gregory and went on to his daughter. What a delightful child Susan was, and already the woman in her was peeping through with devastating effect. Heaven forgive Stuart if he hurried her awakening. Elizabeth felt a little shiver of distrust run through her. Yet both Robin and Susan seemed to think the world of their neighbor, and children were said to be able to detect any sham. Could it be that Stuart was one of those unfortunate men who had nailed their colors to their m asts at an early age and spent the rest of their lives trying to convince an uncaring world that they weren ’ t like that at all? Hadn ’ t he said something about finding contentment here? I t didn ’ t sound like Stuart at all: once their conversational swords had crossed he hadn ’ t seemed any different from the man she had known two years ago.
The phone rang suddenly. For a moment she wasn ’ t sure where it was, and then she remembered that it was in the bedroom on the bedside table. Miss Brown must have had if put there because of her lameness. Who c ould be ringing at this hour?
As she picked up the receiver she heard a man ’ s voice say:
“Is that you, Miss Graham? William Gregory here. I just wanted to be sure you ’ d got back all right.”
As the little silence that followed stretched past the seconds, Elizabeth realized that a somewhat shy man was waiting for her to speak.
“Yes, thank you very much, Doctor Gregory. I ’ m afraid I ’ m just having a cup of tea before gathering strength to unpack. It was very kind of you to make me so welcome ‘ tonight. I did enjoy it.”
“I ’ m glad you did. Things are always somewhat at sixes and sevens at Castleford, but no one seems to mind. Odd that you and Stuart Nichols should meet again. I saw him just now when I was having a final look at the river. He seemed to think he might have upset you for some reason and it appeared to be worrying him.”
“I don ’ t think there ’ s any need for that,” Elizabeth said as calmly as she could. “ I must get on with my
She knew that the hurt would have been more than physical as far as Stuart was concerned. He had always prided himself on being able to bring his victims to the very brink of losing their self - control and then would hold them there trembling on the edge helplessly by the sheer force of his personality until he became bored and would release them with a mocking laugh. This was the first time she had fought back, and in some strange way it seemed to set her free. She could face without self-loathing the realization that perhaps there had been som e thing in what he said ... that in the beginning she had been unconsciously attracted to him because of some fancied resemblance to Irving, the boy she had loved so wholeheartedly for that long-ago summer.
Elizabeth sighed and poked the fire into cheerfulness and plugged in the electric kettle. It was as if she had suddenly grown up, become adult and mature, stepped from carefree twenty to a though t ful forty all in the space of an hour, and to her astonishment it wasn ’ t nearly as painful as she would have imagined. It must be the way the buds felt in the spring when they split their stiff coats of winter and began to unfold their delicate leaves: she began to smile at the very thought and found herself laughing. Poor Stuart. She had been rather unkind to him, not only now b u t in the past. She was sorry, but being sorry wasn ’ t going to make her change her mind, she told herself stubbornly. He shouldn ’ t have said that about William Gregory either ... it was completely uncalled for, especially as she had met the man for the first time this miming.
Elizabeth made the tea, and while she was waiting for it to brew, her thoughts left William Gregory and went on to his daughter. What a delightful child Susan was, and already the woman in her was peeping through with devastating effect. Heaven forgive Stuart if he hurried her awakening. Elizabeth felt a little shiver of distrust run through her. Yet both Robin and Susan seemed to think the world of their neighbor, and children were said to be able to detect any sham. Could it be that Stuart was one of those unfortunate men who had nailed their colors to their m asts at an early age and spent the rest of their lives trying to convince an uncaring world that they weren ’ t like that at all? Hadn ’ t he said something about finding contentment here? I t didn ’ t sound like Stuart at all: once their conversational swords had crossed he hadn ’ t seemed any different from the man she had known two years ago.
The phone rang suddenly. For a moment she wasn ’ t sure where it was, and then she remembered that it was in the bedroom on the bedside table. Miss Brown must have had if put there because of her lameness. Who c ould be ringing at this hour?
As she picked up the receiver she heard a man ’ s voice say:
“Is that you, Miss Graham? William Gregory here. I just wanted to be sure you ’ d got back all right.”
As the little silence that followed stretched past the seconds, Elizabeth realized that a somewhat shy man was waiting for her to speak.
“Yes, thank you very much, Doctor Gregory. I ’ m afraid I ’ m just having a cup of tea before gathering strength to unpack. It was very kind of you to make me so welcome ‘ tonight. I did enjoy it.”
“I ’ m glad you did. Things are always somewhat at sixes and sevens at Castleford, but no one seems to mind. Odd that you and Stuart Nichols should meet again. I saw him just now when I was having a final look at the river. He seemed to think he might have upset you for some reason and it appeared to be worrying him.”
“I don ’ t think there ’ s any need for that,” Elizabeth said as calmly as she could. “ I must get on with my
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