Part One
Chapter 7: They Return
(continued)
"What does he know?" whispered Lucy as soon as they were alone.
"Charlotte, how much does Mr. Eager know?"
"Nothing, dearest; he knows nothing. But--" she pointed at the
driver-"HE knows everything. Dearest, had we better? Shall I?"
She took out her purse. "It is dreadful to be entangled with
low-class people. He saw it all." Tapping Phaethon's back with her
guide-book, she said, "Silenzio!" and offered him a franc.
"Va bene," he replied, and accepted it. As well this ending to
his day as any. But Lucy, a mortal maid, was disappointed in him.
There was an explosion up the road. The storm had struck the
overhead wire of the tramline, and one of the great supports had
fallen. If they had not stopped perhaps they might have been
hurt. They chose to regard it as a miraculous preservation, and
the floods of love and sincerity, which fructify every hour of
life, burst forth in tumult. They descended from the carriages;
they embraced each other. It was as joyful to be forgiven past
unworthinesses as to forgive them. For a moment they realized
vast possibilities of good.
The older people recovered quickly. In the very height of their
emotion they knew it to be unmanly or unladylike. Miss Lavish
calculated that, even if they had continued, they would not have
been caught in the accident. Mr. Eager mumbled a temperate
prayer. But the drivers, through miles of dark squalid road,
poured out their souls to the dryads and the saints, and Lucy
poured out hers to her cousin.
"Charlotte, dear Charlotte, kiss me. Kiss me again. Only you can
understand me. You warned me to be careful. And I--I thought I
was developing."
"Do not cry, dearest. Take your time."
"I have been obstinate and silly--worse than you know, far worse.
Once by the river--Oh, but he isn't killed--he wouldn't be
killed, would he?"
The thought disturbed her repentance. As a matter of fact, the
storm was worst along the road; but she had been near danger, and
so she thought it must be near to every one.
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