She felt herself how greatly she had changed.It was as though, until she had found Martin again, everything had been tied up in her, constrained.She had been some one lost and desolate.
Nevertheless, how difficult these days were! Through all this time she spoke to him no affectionate word nor touched him with an affectionate gesture.She was simply a good-humoured companion, laughing at him, assuming, through it all, an off-hand indifference that meant for her so difficult a pretence that she thought he must discover it.He did not; he was in many ways more simple than she.
She laid to sleep his suspicions.She could feel his relief that she was not romantic, that she wanted nothing whatever from him.He was ill--therefore was often churlish.He tried to hurt her again and again with cruel words and then waited to see whether she were hurt.
She never showed him.He treated her with contempt, often not answering her questions, laughing at her little stupidities, complaining of her forgetfulness and, sometimes, her untidiness--telling her again and again to "go back to her parson."She gave no sign.She fought her way.But it hurt; she could not have believed that anything could hurt so much.She was being always drawn to him, longing to put her arm around him, to dare to kiss him, risking any repulse.He seemed so young, so helpless, so unhappy.Every part of him called to her, his hair, his eyes, his voice, his body.But she held herself in, she never gave way, she was resolute in her plan.
On their last evening in Lynton Street, for five minutes, he was suddenly kind to her, almost the old Martin speaking with the old voice.She held her breath, scarcely daring to let herself know how happy she was.
"What do you think about God, Maggie?" he asked, turning on the sofa and looking at her.
"Think about God?" she said, repeating his words.
"Yes...Is there one?"
"I don't know.I haven't any intelligence about those things.""Is there immortality?"
"I don't know."
"I hope not.Your parson thinks there is, doesn't he?""Of course he does."
"Did he have lots of services and did you hare to go to them?""Yes."
"Poor Maggie--always having to go to them.Well, it's queer.Funny if there isn't anything after all when there's been such a fight about it so long.Did they make you very religious at Skeaton or wherever the place was?""No," said Maggie."They thought me a terrible heathen.Grace was terrified of me, I seemed so wicked to her.She thought I was bewitching Paul's soul--""Perhaps you were."
"No.So little did I that he hasn't even come up to London to fetch me.""Which did you like best--Skeaton or the Chapel?""I don't know.I was wrong in both of them.They were just opposite." Maggie waited a little.Then she said: "Martin there must be something.I can feel it as though it were behind a wall somewhere--I can hear it and I can't see anything.Aunt Anne and--and--your father, and Paul, and Mr.Magnus were all trying...It feels like a fight, but I don't know who's fighting who."Her allusion to his father had been unfortunate.
"It's all damned rot if you ask me," he said, turned his face to the wall and wouldn't say another word.
Next morning they started.Mrs.Brandon's bill was as large as she could make it and still not very large.Dr.Abrams, to Maggie's immense surprise, would not take a penny.
"I'm not wantin' money just now," he said."I'm robbing a rich old man who lives near here.I'm a sort of highway man, you know, rob the rich and spend it how I like.Now don't you press me to make up a bill or I shall change my mind and give you.one and it will be so large that you won't be able to go down to Glebeshire.How would you like that? Oh, don't think I'm doing it from fine motives.You're both a couple of babies, that's what you are, and it would be a shame to rob you.How you're ever going to get through the world don't know.The Babes in the Wood weren't in it.He thinks he's wicked, doesn't he?""Yes, he does," said Maggie.
"Wicked! Why, he doesn't know what wickedness is.A couple of children.Look after his heart or he'll be popping off one fine morning."Maggie turned pale."Oh no," she said, her voice trembling.
"He's going to get well."
