I would have had a last word from the
same hand myself; had it been never so scornful, this silent scorn was
the harder sort to bear. Also I wanted much to know what her last word
was to Bob--and dreaded more what it might be.
There remained the unexpected triumph of having got rid of my lady after
all. That is not to be belittled even now. It is a triumph to succeed in
any undertaking, more especially when one has abandoned one's own last
hope of such success. The unpleasant character of this particular
emprise made its eventual accomplishment in some ways the greater matter
for congratulation in my eyes. At least I had done my part. I had come
to hate it, but the thing was done, and it had been a fairly difficult
thing to do. It was impossible not to plume oneself a little on the
whole, but the feeling was a superficial one, with deeper and uneasier
feelings underneath. Still, I had practically redeemed my impulsive
promise to Catherine Evers; her son and this woman once parted, it
should be easy to keep them apart, and my knowledge of the woman
forbade me to deny the fullest significance to her departure. She had
gone away to stay away--from Bob. She had listened to me the less with
her ears, because her reason and her heart had been compelled to heed.
To be sure, she saw the unsuitability, the impossibility, as clearly as
we did.
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