If he trusted her (how strange;
why should he? Was he wrong?) she accepted the trust with scrupulous
fairness. And when it dawned upon her that of all the men in the world
this unquestionably was the one she knew best, she had a moment of
wonder followed by an impression of profound sadness. It seemed an
unfortunate matter that concerned her alone.
Her thought was suspended while she listened attentively for the return
of the yacht's boat. She was dismayed at the task before her. Not a
sound broke the stillness and she felt as if she were lost in empty
space. Then suddenly someone amidships yawned immensely and said: "Oh,
dear! Oh, dear!" A voice asked: "Ain't they back yet?" A negative grunt
answered.
Mrs. Travers found that Lingard was touching, because he could be
understood. How simple was life, she reflected. She was frank with
herself. She considered him apart from social organization. She
discovered he had no place in it. How delightful! Here was a human
being and the naked truth of things was not so very far from her
notwithstanding the growth of centuries. Then it occurred to her that
this man by his action stripped her at once of her position, of her
wealth, of her rank, of her past. "I am helpless. What remains?" she
asked herself. Nothing! Anybody there might have suggested: "Your
presence.
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