She stood still, at the footof the
steps.
But the revengefulness came out in her new vision
of people.
She was intenselymoral, so moral, that she was a
divorcée. She wanted to go up and say goodbye tothe gipsies.
I can send a note and say you disapprove, she said
dimly. The man went to the car, and returned with a little sack of cones,from which
he drew a handful. Perhaps we havent really GOT any sex, to connect us with men.
Well they are, really, she said, with that blithe vagueness.
It had pulled up, just beyond the
quarry.
She too, one day, would knowhim, and clap the
slaves collar of her contempt round his neck.
What is it, Lucille, she asked, that brings people
together? But since the war, even the old sporting chance of scoring now andthen,
was pretty well quenched.
Its not really anything COMMON, like
commonsensuality, you know, Lucille. Inwardly she was hard and detached, and,
unknownto herself, revengeful.
Oh I think its an awful pity there has to BE
sex!
You want to put your hat on, he said to her.
Something sensitive in him made him slow, cautious, as if he hadhurt himself against
people.
But certain tendencies end in criminal lunacy,
unless theyare curbed in time. He looked down at her quite kindly, like the sun on
ice.
Every common low man in Halifax feelsnothing else!
And anyhow onewould be sure to get out of love again, and it would be
merelydisgusting. Yvette, on a sudden impulse, thought she had better clear herself.
Was she abnormal, one of thesemicriminal abnormals? With manyselves, she ignored him
or had a distaste for him.
And the fling meant, at the moment, thegipsy.