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And she could not be sure of certain things unless the
atmosphere was normal. So she said to herself now, though before she
had had the inimitable confidence of woman in certain detective
instincts claimed by the whole sex. At one moment the thing she feared
--and her whole being recoiled from the thought of it with a shaking
disgust--the thing she feared seemed to her fact. Then something
occurred to make her distrust herself. And she felt that betraying
imagination of hers at work, obscuring all issues, tricking her,
punishing her.
And when the meal was over she did not know at all. And she felt as if
she had perhaps been deliberately baffled--not, of course, by Vere, of
whose attitude she was not, and never had been, doubtful, but by
Emile.
When they got up from the table Vere said:
"I'm going to take the siesta."
"You look remarkably wide awake, Vere," Artois said, smiling.
"But I'm going to, because I've had you all to myself the whole
morning. Now it's Madre's turn.


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