Why last year Marjorie was going everywhere with that ass Robin Beaseley.
She was mad about him at the time but I pretended not to notice and it all blew over.
If I were you I should refuse to recognize that anything has happened.”
Marjorie had said,
“Of course Brenda doesn't love Beaver.
How could she? … And if she thinks she does at the moment, I think it's your duty to prevent her making a fool of herself.
You must refuse to be divorced — anyway until she has found someone more reasonable.”
Lady St. Cloud had said,
“Brenda has been very, very foolish.
She always was an excitable girl, but I am sure there was never anything wrong, quite sure.
That wouldn't be like Brenda at all.
I haven't met Mr. Beaver and I do not wish to.
I understand he is unsuitable in every way.
Brenda would never want to marry anyone like that.
I will tell you exactly how it happened, Tony.
Brenda must have felt a tiny bit neglected — people often do at that stage of marriage.
I have known countless cases — and it was naturally flattering to her to find a young man to beg and carry for her.
That's all it was, nothing wrong. And then the terrible shock of little John's accident unsettled her and she didn't know what she was saying or writing.
You'll both laugh over this little fracas in years to come.”
Tony had not set eyes on Brenda since the afternoon of the funeral.
Once he spoke to her over the telephone.
It was during the second week when he was feeling most lonely and bewildered by various counsels.
Allan had been with him urging a reconciliation.
“I've been talking to Brenda,” he had said.
“She's sick of Beaver already.
The one thing she wants is to go back to Hetton and settle down with you again.”
While Allan was there, Tony resolutely refused to listen but later the words, and the picture they evoked, would not leave his mind.
So he rang her up and she answered him calmly and gravely.
“Brenda, this is Tony.”
“Hullo, Tony, what is it?”
“I've been talking to Allan.
He's just told me about your change of mind.”
“I'm not sure I know what you mean.”
“That you want to leave Beaver and come back to Hetton.”
“Did Allan say that?”
“Yes, isn't it true?”
“I'm afraid it's not.
Allan is an interfering ass.
I had him here this afternoon.
He told me that you didn't want a divorce but that you were willing to let me stay on alone in London and do as I liked provided there was no public scandal.
It seemed a good idea and I was going to ring you up about it.
But I suppose that's just his diplomacy too.
Anyway I'm afraid there's no prospect of my coming back to Hetton just at present.”
“Oh I see.
I didn't think it was likely … I just rang you up.”
“That's all right.
How are you, Tony?”
“All right, thanks.”
“Good, so am I.
Goodbye.”