He could not even tell whether it was in town or in the country, or
whether as a child she had even seen the sea. And how could a child of
that kind be objectionable? But he remembered that a child disapproved
of could be very unhappy, and he said:
"I am sorry."
Mrs. Travers laughed a little. Within the muslin cage forms had turned
to blurred shadows. Amongst them the form of d'Alcacer arose and moved.
The systematic or else the morbid dumbness of Mr. Travers bored and
exasperated him, though, as a matter of fact, that gentleman's speeches
had never had the power either to entertain or to soothe his mind.
"It's very nice of you. You have a great capacity for sympathy, but
after all I am not certain on which side your sympathies lie. With me,
or those much-tried people," said Mrs. Travers.
"With the child," said Lingard, disregarding the bantering tone. "A
child can have a very bad time of it all to itself."
"What can you know of it?" she asked.
"I have my own feelings," he answered in some surprise.
Mrs. Travers, with her back to him, was covered with confusion. Neither
could she depict to herself his childhood as if he, too, had come
into the world in the fullness of his strength and his purpose. She
discovered a certain naiveness in herself and laughed a little.
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