Post Captain by Patrick O’Brian Page B

beautiful. She is really beautiful, but she knows nothing - how could she? - and I cannot forgive her her fortune. It is so unjust. Life is so unjust.' Stephen made no reply, but fetched her an ice. 'The only thing a man can offer a woman is marriage,' she went on. 'An equal marriage. I have about four or five years, and if I cannot find a husband by then, I shall... And where can one be found in this howling wilderness? Do I disgust you very much? I mean to put you off, you know.'
    'Yes, I am aware of your motions, Villiers. You do not disgust me at all - you speak as a friend. You hunt; and your chase has a beast in view.'
    'Well done, Maturin.'
    'You insist upon an equal marriage?'
    'At the very least. I shall despise a woman so poor-spirited, so wanting in courage, as to make a mésalliance. There was a smart little whippersnapper of an attorney in Dover that had the infernal confidence to make me an offer. I have never been so mortified in my life. I had rather go to the stake, or look after the Teapot for the rest of my days.'
    'Define your beast.'
    'I am not difficult. He must have some money, of course - love in a cottage be damned. He must have some sense; he must not be actually deformed, nor too ancient. Admiral Haddock, for example, is beyond my limit, I do not insist upon it, but I should like him to be able to sit a horse and not fall off too often; and I should like him to be able to hold his wine. You do not get drunk, Maturin; that is one of the things I like about you. Captain Aubrey and half the other men here will have to be carried to bed.'
    'No, I love wine, but I do not find it often affects my judgment: not often. I drank a good deal this evening, however. As far as Jack Aubrey is concerned, do you not think you may be a little late in the field? I have the impression that tonight may be decisive.'
    'Has he told you anything? Has he confided in you?'
    'You do not speak as you have just spoken to a tattle-tale of a man, I believe. As far as your knowledge of me goes, it is accurate.'
    'In any case, you are wrong. I know Sophie. He may make a declaration, but she will need a longer time than this. She need never fear being left on the shelf - it never occurs to her at all, I dare say - and she is afraid of marriage. How she cried when I told her men had hair on their chests! And she hates being managed - that is not the word I want. What is it, Maturin?'
    'Manipulated.'
    'Exactly. She is a dutiful girl - a great sense of duty: I think it rather stupid, but there it is - but still she finds the way her mother has been arranging and pushing and managing and angling in all this perfectly odious. You two must have had hogsheads of that grocer's claret forced down your throats. Perfectly odious: and she is obstinate- strong, if you like - under that bread-and-butter way of hers. It will take a great deal to move her; much more than the excitement of a ball.'
    'She is not attached?'
    'Attached to Aubrey? I do not know; I do not suppose she knows herself. She likes him; she is flattered by his attentions; and to be sure he is a husband any woman would be glad to have - well-off, good-looking, distinguished in his profession and with a future before him, unexceptionable family, cheerful, good-natured. But she is entirely unsuited to him - I am persuaded she is, with her secretive, closed, stubborn nature. He needs someone much more awake, much more alive: they would never be happy.'
    'She may have a passionate side, a side you know nothing about, or do not choose to see.'
    'Stuff, Maturin. In any case, he needs a different woman and she needs a different man: in a way you might be much more suited to her, if you could stand her ignorance.'
    'So Jack Aubrey might answer?'
    'Yes, I like him well enough. I should prefer a man more - what shall I say? More grown up, less of a boy
    - less of a huge boy.'
    'He is highly considered in his profession, as you said yourself, just now.'
    'That is neither here nor there. A