''Rivers,'' he says, ''should you like to come back, as a guest, with Hawtrey?''
Richard bows, looks sorry. ''I fear, sir, I shall be occupied elsewhere.''
''Unfortunate. You hear that, Maud? Most unfortunate . . .''◎思◎兔◎網◎文◎檔◎共◎享◎與◎在◎線◎閱◎讀◎
He unlocks his door. Mr Way and Charles are going about the gallery with Richard''s bags. Charles is rubbing his eyes with his sleeve.—''Get on with you!'' says Mr Way savagely, kicking out with his foot. Charles lifts his head, sees us emerging from my uncle''s room—sees my uncle, I suppose—and shakes in a sort of convulsion, and runs. My uncle also shakes, then.
''Do you see, Rivers, the torments to which I am exposed? Mr Way, I hope you will catch that boy and whip him!''
''I will, sir,'' says Mr Way.
Richard looks at me, and smiles. I do not smile back. And when, at the steps, he takes my hand, my fingers sit quite nervelessly against his own. ''Good-bye,'' he says. I say nothing. He turns to my uncle: ''Mr Lilly. Farewell to you, sir!''
''A handsome man,'' my uncle says, as the trap is drawn from sight. ''Hmm, Maud? What, are you silent? Shan''t you like it, to have to return to our solitary ways?''
We go back into the house. Mr Way pulls closed the swollen door, and the hall grows dark. I climb the stairs at my uncle''s side, as I once, as a girl, climbed them