"
But Boulte was not listening, and her sentence ended in a gulp.
But Boulte was not listening, and her sentence ended in a gulp.
Kipling - Poems
Moreover, she could not understand her
husband, and she was afraid. Then the folly of her useless truthfulness
struck her, and she was ashamed to write to Kurrell, saying: "I have
gone mad and told everything. My husband says that I am free to elope
with you. Get a dak for Thursday, and we will fly after dinner. " There
was a cold-bloodedness about that procedure which did not appeal to her.
So she sat still in her own house and thought.
At dinner-time Boulte came back from his walk, white and worn and
haggard, and the woman was touched at his distress. As the evening wore
on, she muttered some expression of sorrow, something approaching to
contrition. Boulte came out of a brown study and said, "Oh, that! I
wasn't thinking about that. By the way, what does Kurrell say to the
elopement? "
"I haven't seen him," said Mrs. Boulte. "Good God! is that all?
"
But Boulte was not listening, and her sentence ended in a gulp.
The next day brought no comfort to Mrs. Boulte, for Kurrell did not
appear, and the new life that she, in the five minutes' madness of the
previous evening, had hoped to build out of the ruins of the old, seemed
to be no nearer.
Boulte ate his breakfast, advised her to see her Arab pony fed in the
veranda, and went out. The morning wore through, and at midday the
tension became unendurable. Mrs. Boulte could not cry. She had finished
her crying in the night, and now she did not want to be left alone.
Perhaps the Vansuythen woman would talk to her; and, since talking
opens the heart, perhaps there might be some comfort to be found in her
company. She was the only other woman in the Station.
In Kashima there are no regular calling-hours. Every one can drop in
upon every one else at pleasure. Mrs. Boulte put on a big terai hat, and
walked across to the Vansuythens's house to borrow last week's Queen.
The two compounds touched, and instead of going up the drive, she
crossed through the gap in the cactus-hedge, entering the house from
the back. As she passed through the dining-room, she heard, behind
the purdah that cloaked the drawing-room door, her husband's voice,
saying--"But on my Honor!
husband, and she was afraid. Then the folly of her useless truthfulness
struck her, and she was ashamed to write to Kurrell, saying: "I have
gone mad and told everything. My husband says that I am free to elope
with you. Get a dak for Thursday, and we will fly after dinner. " There
was a cold-bloodedness about that procedure which did not appeal to her.
So she sat still in her own house and thought.
At dinner-time Boulte came back from his walk, white and worn and
haggard, and the woman was touched at his distress. As the evening wore
on, she muttered some expression of sorrow, something approaching to
contrition. Boulte came out of a brown study and said, "Oh, that! I
wasn't thinking about that. By the way, what does Kurrell say to the
elopement? "
"I haven't seen him," said Mrs. Boulte. "Good God! is that all?
"
But Boulte was not listening, and her sentence ended in a gulp.
The next day brought no comfort to Mrs. Boulte, for Kurrell did not
appear, and the new life that she, in the five minutes' madness of the
previous evening, had hoped to build out of the ruins of the old, seemed
to be no nearer.
Boulte ate his breakfast, advised her to see her Arab pony fed in the
veranda, and went out. The morning wore through, and at midday the
tension became unendurable. Mrs. Boulte could not cry. She had finished
her crying in the night, and now she did not want to be left alone.
Perhaps the Vansuythen woman would talk to her; and, since talking
opens the heart, perhaps there might be some comfort to be found in her
company. She was the only other woman in the Station.
In Kashima there are no regular calling-hours. Every one can drop in
upon every one else at pleasure. Mrs. Boulte put on a big terai hat, and
walked across to the Vansuythens's house to borrow last week's Queen.
The two compounds touched, and instead of going up the drive, she
crossed through the gap in the cactus-hedge, entering the house from
the back. As she passed through the dining-room, she heard, behind
the purdah that cloaked the drawing-room door, her husband's voice,
saying--"But on my Honor!
