And
when she raised her eyes the same abysmal immobility seemed to reign
over the whole sun-bathed enlargement of that lagoon which was one of
the secret places of the earth. She felt strongly her isolation. She was
so much the only being of her kind moving within this mystery that even
to herself she looked like an apparition without rights and without
defence and that must end by surrendering to those forces which seemed
to her but the expression of the unconscious genius of the place. Hers
was the most complete loneliness, charged with a catastrophic tension.
It lay about her as though she had been set apart within a magic circle.
It cut off--but it did not protect. The footsteps that she knew how to
distinguish above all others on that deck were heard suddenly behind
her. She did not turn her head.
Since that afternoon when the gentlemen, as Lingard called them, had
been brought on board, Mrs. Travers and Lingard had not exchanged one
significant word.
When Lingard had decided to proceed by way of negotiation she had asked
him on what he based his hope of success; and he had answered her: "On
my luck." What he really depended on was his prestige; but even if he
had been aware of such a word he would not have used it, since it would
have sounded like a boast. And, besides, he did really believe in his
luck.
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