You can’t think I’m such a beast as to grudge you a little fun in your fortnight’s holiday.
My poor lamb, my only fear was that you would be bored.
I so wanted you to have a good time.’
‘Then why did you send me that money and write me that letter?
It was so insulting.’
Julia’s voice faltered.
Her jaw began to tremble and the loss of control over her muscles was strangely moving.
Tom looked away uneasily.
‘I couldn’t bear to think of your having to throw away your good money on tips.
I know that you’re not terribly rich and I knew you’d spent a lot on green fees.
I hate women who go about with young men and let them pay for everything.
It’s so inconsiderate.
I treated you just as I’d have treated Roger.
I never thought it would hurt your feelings.’
‘Will you swear that?’
‘Of course I will.
My God, is it possible that after all these months you don’t know me better than that?
If what you think were true, what a mean, cruel, despicable woman I should be, what a cad, what a heartless, vulgar beast!
Is that what you think I am?’
A poser.
‘Anyhow it doesn’t matter.
I ought never to have accepted valuable presents from you and allowed you to lend me money.
It’s put me in a rotten position.
Why I thought you despised me is that I can’t help feeling that you’ve got a right to.
The fact is I can’t afford to run around with people who are so much richer than I am.
I was a fool to think I could.
It’s been fun and I’ve had a grand time, but now I’m through.
I’m not going to see you any more.’
She gave a deep sigh.
‘You don’t care two hoots for me.
That’s what that means.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘You’re everything in the world to me.
You know that.
I’m so lonely and your friendship meant a great deal to me.
I’m surrounded by hangers-on and parasites and I knew you were disinterested.
I felt I could rely on you.
I so loved being with you.
You were the only person in the world with whom I could be entirely myself.
Don’t you know what a pleasure it was to me to help you a little?
It wasn’t for your sake I made you little presents, it was for my own; it made me so happy to see you using the things I’d given you.
If you’d cared for me at all they wouldn’t have humiliated you, you’d have been touched to owe me something.’
She turned her eyes on him once more.
She could always cry easily, and she was really so miserable now that she did not have to make even a small effort.
He had never seen her cry before.
She could cry, without sobbing, her wonderful dark eyes wide open, with a face that was almost rigid.
Great heavy tears ran down it. And her quietness, the immobility of the tragic body, were terribly moving.
She hadn’t cried like that since she cried in The Stricken Heart.
Christ, how that play had shattered her.
She was not looking at Tom, she was looking straight in front of her; she was really distracted with grief, but, what was it? another self within her knew what she was doing, a self that shared in her unhappiness and yet watched its expression.