"It would be an idiotic thing to do," she added.
Gaitskill shot a glance at her from under his brows, and smiled to himself.
Then he wished everyone goodbye and went out.
There were a few moments of silence, a realisation that the family circle was alone with itself.
Then Philip got up stiffly.
"I must get back to the library," he said.
"I have lost a lot of time."
"Father -" Sophia spoke uncertainly, almost pleadingly.
I felt her quiver and draw back as Philip turned cold hostile eyes on her.
"You must forgive me for not congratulating you," he said. "But this has been rather a shock to me.
I would not have believed that my father would so have humiliated me - that he would have disregarded my lifetime's devotion - yes - devotion."
For the first time, the natural man broke through the crust of icy restraint.
"My God," he cried. "How could he do this to me? He was always unfair to me - always."
"Oh no, Philip, no, you mustn't think that," cried Edith de Haviland. "Don't regard this as another slight.
It isn't.
When people get old, they turn naturally to a younger generation...
I assure you it's only that... And besides, Aristide had a very keen business sense.
I've often heard him say that two lots of death duties -"
"He never cared for me," said Philip. His voice was low and hoarse. "It was always Roger - Roger. Well, at least -" an extraordinary expression of spite suddenly marred his handsome features, "father realised that Roger was a fool and a failure. He cut Roger out, too."
"What about me?" said Eustace.
I had hardly noticed Eustace until now, but I perceived that he was trembling with some violent emotion.
His face was crimson, there were, I thought, tears in his eyes.
His voice shook as it rose hysterically.
"It's a shame!" said Eustace.
"It's a damned shame! How dare Grandfather do this to me?
How dare he?
I was his only grandson.
How dare he pass me over for Sophia?
It's not fair.
I hate him.
I hate him.
I'll never forgive him as long as I live. Beastly tyrannical old man.
I wanted him to die.
I wanted to get out of this house.
I wanted to be my own master.
And now I've got to be bullied and messed around by Sophia, and made to look a fool.
I wish I was dead..."
His voice broke and he rushed out of the room.
Edith de Haviland gave a sharp click of her tongue.
"No self control," she murmured.
"I know just how he feels," cried Magda.
"I'm sure you do," said Edith with acidity in her tone.
"The poor sweet!
I must go after him."
"Now, Magda -" Edith hurried after her.
Their voices died away.
Sophia remained looking at Philip.
There was, I think, a certain pleading in her glance.
If so, it got no response.
He looked at her coldly, quite in control of himself once more.