Yet it's
enough to show you what danger you're in. If Herter hadn't been
practically certain, he wouldn't have sent any message. He'd have
waited. Evidently you made him believe that you loved Jim Beckett, so he
wanted to prepare your mind by degrees. I suppose he imagined a shock of
joy might be dangerous. Well, you ought to thank Herter just the same
for sparing you a worse sort of shock. And I thank him, too, for it
gives me a great chance--the chance to save you. Mary, the time's come
for you and me to fade off the Beckett scene--together."
I listened without interrupting him once: at first, because I was
stunned, and a thousand thoughts beat dully against my brain without
finding their way in, as gulls beat their wings against the lamp of a
lighthouse; at last, because I wished to hear Julian O'Farrell to the
very end before I answered. I fancied that in answering I could better
marshal my own thoughts.
He misunderstood my silence--I expected him to do that, but I cared not
at all--so, when he had paused and still I said nothing, he went on: "Of
course I--for the best of reasons--know you didn't love Jim Beckett, and
couldn't love him."
Hearing those words of his, suddenly I knew just what I wanted to say.
I'd been like an amateur actress wild with stage fright, who'd forgotten
her part till the right cue came. "There you're mistaken," I
contradicted him. "I did love Jim Beckett."
Julian gave an excited, brutal laugh.
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