“I’ve already told you. I could see you did not want to go. Oh, do let’s have an end to it. I’m sick to death of the subject.”
“All women say that when they’ve lost an argument. All right, I did not want to go to the other beach. Will that please you? I never go near the bloody place, or that Goddamned cottage. And if you had my memories you would not want to go there either, or talk about it, or even think about it. There. You can digest that if you like, and I hope it satisfies you.”
His face was white, and his eyes strained and wretched with that dark lost look they had had when I first met him. I put out my hand to him, I took hold of his, holding it tight.
“Please, Maxim, please,” I said.
“What’s the matter?” he said roughly.
“I don’t want you to look like that,” I said. “It hurts too much. Please, Maxim. Let’s forget all we said. A futile silly argument. I’m sorry, darling. I’m sorry. Please let everything be all right.”
“We ought to have stayed in Italy,” he said. “We ought never to have come back to Manderley. Oh, God, what a fool I was to come back.”
He brushed through the trees impatiently, striding even faster than before, and I had to run to keep pace with him, catching at my breath, tears very near the surface, dragging poor Jasper after me on the end of his string.
At last we came to the top of the path, and I saw its fellow branching left to the Happy Valley. We had climbed the path then that Jasper had wished to take at the beginning of the afternoon. I knew now why Jasper had turned to it. It led to the beach he knew best, and the cottage. It was his old routine.
We came out onto the lawns, and went across them to the house without a word. Maxim’s face was hard, with no expression. He went straight into the hall and onto the library without looking at me. Frith was in the hall.
“We want tea at once,” said Maxim, and he shut the library door.
I fought to keep back my tears. Frith must not see them. He would think we had been quarrelling, and he would go to the servants’ hall and say to them all, “Mrs. de Winter was crying in the hall just now. It looks as though things are not going very well.” I turned away, so that Frith should not see my face. He came towards me though, he began to help me off with my mackintosh.
“I’ll put your raincoat away for you in the flower room, Madam,” he said.
“Thank you, Frith,” I replied, my face still away from him.
“Not a very pleasant afternoon for a walk, I fear, Madam.”
“No,” I said. “No, it was not very nice.”
“Your handkerchief, Madam?” he said, picking up something that had fallen on the floor. “Thank you,” I said, putting it in my pocket.
I was wondering whether to go upstairs or whether to follow Maxim to the library. Frith took the coat to the flower room. I stood there, hesitating, biting my nails. Frith came back again. He looked surprised to see me still there.
“There is a good fire in the library now, Madam.”
“Thank you, Frith,” I said.
I walked slowly across the hall to the library. I opened the door and went in. Maxim was sitting in his chair, Jasper at his feet, the old dog in her basket. Maxim was not reading the paper, though it lay on the arm of the chair beside him. I went and knelt down by his side and put my face close to his.
“Don’t be angry with me anymore,” I whispered.
He took my face in his hands, and looked down at me with his tired, strained eyes. “I’m not angry with you,” he said.
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve made you unhappy. It’s the same as making you angry. You’re all wounded and hurt and torn inside. I can’t bear to see you like this. I love you so much.”
“Do you?” he said. “Do you?” He held me very tight, and his eyes questioned me, dark and uncertain, the eyes of a child in pain, a child in fear.
“What is it, darling?” I said. “Why do you look like that?”
I heard the door open before he could answer, and I sank back on my heels, pretending to reach for a log to throw on the fire, while Frith came into the room followed by Robert, and the ritual of our tea began.
The performance of the day before was repeated, the placing of the table, the laying of the snow-white cloth, the putting down of cakes and crumpets, the silver kettle of hot water placed on its little flame, while Jasper, wagging his tail, his ears stretched back in anticipation, watched my face. Five minutes must have passed before we were alone again, and when I looked at Maxim I saw the color had come back into his face, the tired, lost look was gone, and he was reaching for a sandwich.