Some Do Not . . ._ A Novel - Ford Madox Ford [142]
'I'm sorry,' she said in a dead voice. 'We had hoped that, if that man went to France--or if other things happened--we might have continued on the old friendly footing. But you yourself must see that, with our official position, we can't be expected to connive...'
Valentine said:
'I don't understand!'
'Perhaps you'd rather I didn't go on!' Mrs Duchemin retorted. 'I'd much rather not go on.'
'You'd probably better,' Valentine answered.
'We had meant,' the elder woman said, 'to have a quiet little dinner--we two and you, before the party--for auld lang syne. But that fellow has forced himself in, and you see for yourself that we can't have you as well.'
Valentine said:
'I don't see why not. I always like to see Mr Tietjens!' Mrs Duchemin looked hard at her.
'I don't see the use,' she said, 'of your keeping on that mask. It is surely bad enough that your mother should go about with that man and that terrible scenes like that of the other Friday should occur. Mrs Tietjens was heroic; nothing less than heroic. But you have no right to subject us, your friends, to such ordeals.'
Valentine said:
'You mean...Mrs Christopher Tietjens...'
Mrs Duchemin went on:
'My husband insists that I should ask you. But I will not. I simply will not. I invented for you the excuse of the frock. Of course we could have given you a frock if that man is so mean or so penniless as not to keep you decent. But I repeat, with our official position we cannot--we cannot; it would be madness--connive at this intrigue. And all the more as the wife appears likely to be friendly with us. She has been once: she may well come again.' She paused and went on solemnly: 'And I warn you, if the split comes--as it must, for what woman could stand it?--it is Mrs Tietjens we shall support. She will always find a home here.'
An extraordinary picture of Sylvia Tietjens standing beside Edith Ethel and dwarfing her as a giraffe dwarfs an emu, came into Valentine's head. She said:
'Ethel! Have I gone mad? Or is it you? Upon my word I can't understand...'
Mrs Duchemin exclaimed:
'For God's sake hold your tongue, you shameless thing! You've had a child by the man, haven't you?'
Valentine saw suddenly the tall silver candlesticks, the dark polished panels of the rectory, and Edith Ethel's mad face and mad hair whirling before them.
She said:
'No! I certainly haven't. Can you get that into your head? I certainly haven't.' She made a further effort over immense fatigue. 'I assure you--I beg you to believe if it will give you any ease--that Mr Tietjens has never addressed a word of love to me in his life. Nor have I to him. We have hardly talked to each other in all the time we have known each other.'
Mrs Duchemin said in a harsh voice:
'Seven people in the last five weeks have told me you have had a child by that beast: he's ruined because he has to keep you and your mother and the child. You won't deny that he has a child somewhere hidden away?...'
Valentine exclaimed suddenly:
'Oh, Ethel, you mustn't...you mustn't be jealous of me! If you only knew you wouldn't be jealous of me...I suppose the child you were going to have was by Christopher? Men are like that...But not of me! You need never, never. I've been the best friend you can ever have had...'
Mrs Duchemin exclaimed harshly, as if she were being strangled:
'A sort of blackmail! I knew it would come to that! It always does with your sort. Then do your damnedest, you harlot. You never set foot in this house again! Go you and rot...' Her face suddenly expressed extreme fear and with great swiftness she ran up the room. Immediately afterwards she was tenderly bending over a great bowl of roses beneath the lustre. The voice of Vincent Macmaster from the door had said:
'Come in, old man. Of course I've got ten minutes. The