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were no longer subjects for them to discuss.
'What do you want me to say?' she inquired pleadingly, spreading her
hands. 'There's nothing, Stuart. ..
She saw the movement in his throat, and the atmosphere around them
became fraught with an emotion engulfing them both. He made a
move to take her in his arms; she didn't shrink or move at all, but his
arms fell to his sides again in a helpless despairing gesture. Was he
genuinely hurt? Jane asked herself again. Or did he merely believe
himself to be hurt?
'I suppose it's better to have discovered our mistake now,' he said
tonelessly, 'before we become more deeply enmeshed.' Jane could not
speak, because a lump blocked her throat. And after a while Stuart's
voice penetrated her unhappy thoughts again as he asked her to
continue as they were until the end of the dig and they returned to their
own country. 'There's already been a nine days' wonder over the
disclosure of what we did,' he went on. 'This is a small, close-knit
community and gossip is naturally to be expected. But for myself I
don't want any more of it. Will you do this, Jane? It isn't asking too
much, is it?'
'Of course not,' she responded hastily, lifting her ' eyes to his face.
'There's no reason why we should break right now, on this instant.'
'Thank you, Jane.' He took her hand and said, 'Let's go for a walk. The
evening's too beautiful to waste.' He smiled then, and her own lips
curved. Relief spread over her even before Stuart spoke again, this
time in an almost flippant tone, 'Aren't you glad it isn't your turn for
preparing the evening meal? Poor Guy and Pauline - sweating over
that hot stove!'
She managed a laugh in response to his. The atmosphere was still tense
and strained, but this reverting to a lightness, however forced, helped
the situation enormously and once or twice as they walked along, still
holding hands, their laughter rang out across the camp.
Nickolas heard it from where he sat outside his hut ; his dark eyes
followed them as they traversed a nearby rise. Jane turned her head,
her whole heart and mind affected by his keen interest and regard. She
was happier now, though, than she would have been a few weeks ago,
for at that time Nickolas believed her to be having an affair with
Stuart, whereas now he believed them to be engaged and, therefore,
would see no reason why they should not be walking together like this.
The following day Pauline complained of feeling off colour and by the
late afternoon she was too lethargic to carry on with her work. Deeply
concerned, Nickolas sent for Jane and told her to get Pauline to bed,
and an hour later he was standing beside Pauline's bunk, gazing down
at her in critical observation.
'I'm sure I don't know what it is,' he said at last. 'If you don't improve
by tomorrow morning we'll get a doctor.'
The doctor arrived during the afternoon of the following day, but
decided there was nothing seriously wrong with Pauline.
'It does seem to me,' he told Jane when they were outside the hut, 'that
she's suffering from some sort of mental thing-a melancholia '
'Melancholia!' Jane blinked at him. 'No such thing, Dr. Rousakis;
Pauline is just as happy as it's possible to be.'
But the grey-haired doctor was shaking his head. 'I know better than
you, young lady. Your friend is fretting over something. However,' he
added, walking to his car and obviously expecting Jane to follow him,
'it isn't only that. She's thoroughly run-down physically. This climate
doesn't suit everyone, you know, and we've had an unusually hot spell
lately. Give hen the tablets I'll be sending along in the morning, and
see that she remains in bed until I come again in about a week's time.'
'A week? Won't you be coming before then?'
'No need. She requires rest, and some good food wouldn't do her any
harm. Why isn't she eating?'
Jane frowned uncomprehendingly.'
'She is eating - as far as I know.'
'As far as you know? Why, do you sit and watch her eat?' His grey
brows knit together as a deep frown creased his bronzed and sun-dried
brow. '
'Well... no, I don't actually watch her, but '
'Then you can't say whether she eats or npt, can you?' he asked
disconcertingly.
'No, I can't,' she agreed hastily, anxious to bring the conversation to an
end.
'Then why did you say she was eating?' Jane did not make any effort to
reply to that and he added shortly, 'See that she does eat from now on.
Milk - you can get some of the fresh stuff in the village - and eggs.
Make her some custard puddings.' And with that he slid into his car
and drove away, sending up a cloud of dust in his wake.
Custard puddings & He'd been to England, then - or somewhere
where this food was served, for one rarely saw custard puddings in
Greece.
Jane did as she was told and served up the pudding to Pauline for her
lunch. She turned away, shuddering as if faced with a dose Of poison.
'Dr. Rousakis says you haven't been eating.' Jane stood by the bunk,
her gaze frowning and puzzled 'Why haven't you been eating,
Pauline?'
'Because I wasn't hungry, obviously. There's no other reason why one
doesn't eat.'
'There's always a reason for one not being hungry. Why weren't you
hungry?'
Pauline sighed, and brought the cover up over her mouth.
'I've been off-colour for some time.'
Jane's eyes flickered to the small beads of perspiration standing out on
Pauline's forehead.
'Why didn't you mention it?'
'Because I had work to do. I couldn't let Nickolas down.'
Jane shook her head in a gesture of slight impatience.
'He wouldn't want you to work if you were feeling ill. You should have
told him, Pauline.'
'I couldn't let him down,' she repeated, and turned over in the bed so
that her back was to Jane.
'You must eat,' Jane persisted. 'The doctor told me to cook this egg and
milk for you ''
'I don't want it!'
'Pauline '
'Oh, go away and leave me alone! I've told you I'm not hungry!'
This was not like the gentle Pauline, and a strange foreboding entered
into Jane. Was she more seriously ill than the doctor believed? He had
certainly been right when he mentioned the word melancholia, for
Pauline was just about as low, mentally, as she could be. Why? Only
one reason that Jane could see. Nickolas was taking far too long in
making known his feelings. From remarks Pauline had made Jane
surmised she had expected some brisk reaction on Nickolas's part
when the truth was revealed and he was no longer under the illusion
that she was married. But nothing much had happened - at least,
nothing concrete. True, Nickolas gave Pauline the sort of glances no
one else received; he also spoke far more gently to her than to any of
the others. He praised her work, he sat next to . her at dinner - the only
meal the whole camp took together. He Was with her more than with
anyone else, but this meant nothing because they were working on his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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were no longer subjects for them to discuss.
'What do you want me to say?' she inquired pleadingly, spreading her
hands. 'There's nothing, Stuart. ..
She saw the movement in his throat, and the atmosphere around them
became fraught with an emotion engulfing them both. He made a
move to take her in his arms; she didn't shrink or move at all, but his
arms fell to his sides again in a helpless despairing gesture. Was he
genuinely hurt? Jane asked herself again. Or did he merely believe
himself to be hurt?
'I suppose it's better to have discovered our mistake now,' he said
tonelessly, 'before we become more deeply enmeshed.' Jane could not
speak, because a lump blocked her throat. And after a while Stuart's
voice penetrated her unhappy thoughts again as he asked her to
continue as they were until the end of the dig and they returned to their
own country. 'There's already been a nine days' wonder over the
disclosure of what we did,' he went on. 'This is a small, close-knit
community and gossip is naturally to be expected. But for myself I
don't want any more of it. Will you do this, Jane? It isn't asking too
much, is it?'
'Of course not,' she responded hastily, lifting her ' eyes to his face.
'There's no reason why we should break right now, on this instant.'
'Thank you, Jane.' He took her hand and said, 'Let's go for a walk. The
evening's too beautiful to waste.' He smiled then, and her own lips
curved. Relief spread over her even before Stuart spoke again, this
time in an almost flippant tone, 'Aren't you glad it isn't your turn for
preparing the evening meal? Poor Guy and Pauline - sweating over
that hot stove!'
She managed a laugh in response to his. The atmosphere was still tense
and strained, but this reverting to a lightness, however forced, helped
the situation enormously and once or twice as they walked along, still
holding hands, their laughter rang out across the camp.
Nickolas heard it from where he sat outside his hut ; his dark eyes
followed them as they traversed a nearby rise. Jane turned her head,
her whole heart and mind affected by his keen interest and regard. She
was happier now, though, than she would have been a few weeks ago,
for at that time Nickolas believed her to be having an affair with
Stuart, whereas now he believed them to be engaged and, therefore,
would see no reason why they should not be walking together like this.
The following day Pauline complained of feeling off colour and by the
late afternoon she was too lethargic to carry on with her work. Deeply
concerned, Nickolas sent for Jane and told her to get Pauline to bed,
and an hour later he was standing beside Pauline's bunk, gazing down
at her in critical observation.
'I'm sure I don't know what it is,' he said at last. 'If you don't improve
by tomorrow morning we'll get a doctor.'
The doctor arrived during the afternoon of the following day, but
decided there was nothing seriously wrong with Pauline.
'It does seem to me,' he told Jane when they were outside the hut, 'that
she's suffering from some sort of mental thing-a melancholia '
'Melancholia!' Jane blinked at him. 'No such thing, Dr. Rousakis;
Pauline is just as happy as it's possible to be.'
But the grey-haired doctor was shaking his head. 'I know better than
you, young lady. Your friend is fretting over something. However,' he
added, walking to his car and obviously expecting Jane to follow him,
'it isn't only that. She's thoroughly run-down physically. This climate
doesn't suit everyone, you know, and we've had an unusually hot spell
lately. Give hen the tablets I'll be sending along in the morning, and
see that she remains in bed until I come again in about a week's time.'
'A week? Won't you be coming before then?'
'No need. She requires rest, and some good food wouldn't do her any
harm. Why isn't she eating?'
Jane frowned uncomprehendingly.'
'She is eating - as far as I know.'
'As far as you know? Why, do you sit and watch her eat?' His grey
brows knit together as a deep frown creased his bronzed and sun-dried
brow. '
'Well... no, I don't actually watch her, but '
'Then you can't say whether she eats or npt, can you?' he asked
disconcertingly.
'No, I can't,' she agreed hastily, anxious to bring the conversation to an
end.
'Then why did you say she was eating?' Jane did not make any effort to
reply to that and he added shortly, 'See that she does eat from now on.
Milk - you can get some of the fresh stuff in the village - and eggs.
Make her some custard puddings.' And with that he slid into his car
and drove away, sending up a cloud of dust in his wake.
Custard puddings & He'd been to England, then - or somewhere
where this food was served, for one rarely saw custard puddings in
Greece.
Jane did as she was told and served up the pudding to Pauline for her
lunch. She turned away, shuddering as if faced with a dose Of poison.
'Dr. Rousakis says you haven't been eating.' Jane stood by the bunk,
her gaze frowning and puzzled 'Why haven't you been eating,
Pauline?'
'Because I wasn't hungry, obviously. There's no other reason why one
doesn't eat.'
'There's always a reason for one not being hungry. Why weren't you
hungry?'
Pauline sighed, and brought the cover up over her mouth.
'I've been off-colour for some time.'
Jane's eyes flickered to the small beads of perspiration standing out on
Pauline's forehead.
'Why didn't you mention it?'
'Because I had work to do. I couldn't let Nickolas down.'
Jane shook her head in a gesture of slight impatience.
'He wouldn't want you to work if you were feeling ill. You should have
told him, Pauline.'
'I couldn't let him down,' she repeated, and turned over in the bed so
that her back was to Jane.
'You must eat,' Jane persisted. 'The doctor told me to cook this egg and
milk for you ''
'I don't want it!'
'Pauline '
'Oh, go away and leave me alone! I've told you I'm not hungry!'
This was not like the gentle Pauline, and a strange foreboding entered
into Jane. Was she more seriously ill than the doctor believed? He had
certainly been right when he mentioned the word melancholia, for
Pauline was just about as low, mentally, as she could be. Why? Only
one reason that Jane could see. Nickolas was taking far too long in
making known his feelings. From remarks Pauline had made Jane
surmised she had expected some brisk reaction on Nickolas's part
when the truth was revealed and he was no longer under the illusion
that she was married. But nothing much had happened - at least,
nothing concrete. True, Nickolas gave Pauline the sort of glances no
one else received; he also spoke far more gently to her than to any of
the others. He praised her work, he sat next to . her at dinner - the only
meal the whole camp took together. He Was with her more than with
anyone else, but this meant nothing because they were working on his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]