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One of Our Conquerors - World eBook Library

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George Meredith<br />

tell me that!’<br />

Mr. Fenellan gathered himself together; he sipped, and relaxed<br />

his bracing. But there really was a bit more to tell: not<br />

much, was it? Not likely to puff a gale on the voluptuous<br />

indolence <strong>of</strong> a man drawn along by Nereids over sunny seawaves<br />

to behold the birth <strong>of</strong> the Foam-Goddess? ‘According<br />

to Carling, her lawyer; that is, he hints she meditates a blow.’<br />

‘Mrs. Burman means to strike a blow?’<br />

‘The lady.’<br />

‘Does he think I fear any—does he mean a blow with a<br />

weapon? Is it a legal … ? At last? Fenellan!’<br />

‘So I fancied I understood.’<br />

‘But can the good woman dream <strong>of</strong> that as a blow to strike<br />

and hurt, for a punishment?—that’s her one aim.’<br />

‘She may have her hallucinations.’<br />

‘But a blow—what a word for it! But it’s life to us life! It’s<br />

the blow we’ve prayed for. Why, you know it! Let her strike,<br />

we bless her. We’ve never had an ill feeling to the woman;<br />

utterly the contrary—pity, pity, pity! Let her do that, we’re<br />

at her feet, my Nataly and I. If you knew what my poor girl<br />

suffers! She ‘s a saint at the stake. Chiefly on behalf <strong>of</strong> her<br />

family. Fenellan, you may have a sort <strong>of</strong> guess at my fortune:<br />

I’ll own to luck; I put in a claim to courage and calculation.’<br />

‘You’ve been a bulwark to your friends.’<br />

‘All, Fenellan, all-stocks, shares, mines, companies, industries<br />

at home and—abroad—all, at a sweep, to have the<br />

woman strike that blow! Cheerfully would I begin to build a<br />

fortune over again—singing! Ha! the woman has threatened<br />

it before. It’s probably feline play with us.’<br />

His chin took support, he frowned.<br />

‘You may have touched her.’<br />

‘She won’t be touched, and she won’t be driven. What ‘s<br />

the secret <strong>of</strong> her? I can’t guess, I never could. She’s a riddle.’<br />

‘Riddles with wigs and false teeth have to be taken and<br />

shaken for the ardently sought secret to reveal itself,’ said<br />

Mr. Fenellan.<br />

His picture, with the skeleton issue <strong>of</strong> any shaking, smote<br />

Mr. Radnor’s eyes, they turned over. ‘Oh!—her charms! She<br />

had a desperate belief in her beauty. The woman ‘s undoubtedly<br />

charitable; she’s not without a mind—sort <strong>of</strong> mind: well,<br />

it shows no crack till it’s put to use. Heart! yes, against me<br />

she has plenty <strong>of</strong> it. They say she used to be courted; she<br />

27

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