"
He had lost himself in the contemplation of her face turned to him with
an expression of awed curiosity. The shock of the world coming down
about his ears in consequence of Carter's smartness was so terrific that
it had dulled his sensibilities in the manner of a great pain or of a
great catastrophe. What was there to look at but that woman's face, in
a world which had lost its consistency, its shape, and its promises in a
moment?
Mrs. Travers looked away. She understood that she had put to Lingard an
impossible question. What was presenting itself to her as a problem was
to that man a crisis of feeling. Obviously Carter's action had broken
the compact entered into with Daman, and she was intelligent enough to
understand that it was the sort of thing that could not be explained
away. It wasn't horror that she felt, but a sort of consternation,
something like the discomfiture of people who have just missed their
train. It was only more intense. The real dismay had yet to make its way
into her comprehension. To Lingard it was a blow struck straight at his
heart.
He was not angry with Carter. The fellow had acted like a seaman.
Carter's concern was for the ships. In this fatality Carter was a mere
incident. The real cause of the disaster was somewhere else, was other,
and more remote.
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