afterheraffairwithLefanutheAmericanpainter,frequentedIndianphilosophers,andnowyoufindherinpensionsinItalycherishingalittlejeweller'sboxcontainingordinarypebblespickedofftheroad.Butifyoulookatthemsteadily,shesays,multiplicitybecomesunity,whichissomehowthesecretoflife,thoughitdoesnotpreventherfromfollowingthemacaroniasitgoesroundthetable,andsometimes,onspringnights,shemakesthestrangestconfidencestoshyyoungEnglishmen.
Jacobhadnothingtohidefromhismother.Itwasonlythathecouldmakenosensehimselfofhisextraordinaryexcitement,andasforwritingitdown—-
"Jacob'slettersaresolikehim,"saidMrs.Jarvis,foldingthesheet.
"Indeedheseemstobehaving…"saidMrs.Flanders,andpaused,forshewascuttingoutadressandhadtostraightenthepattern,"…averygaytime."
Mrs.JarvisthoughtofParis.Atherbackthewindowwasopen,foritwasamildnightacalmnightwhenthemoonseemedmuffledandtheappletreesstoodperfectlystill.
"Ineverpitythedead,"saidMrs.Jarvis,shiftingthecushionatherback,andclaspingherhandsbehindherhead.BettyFlandersdidnothear,forherscissorsmadesomuchnoiseonthetable.
"Theyareatrest,"saidMrs.Jarvis."Andwespendourdaysdoingfoolishunnecessarythingswithoutknowingwhy."
Mrs.Jarviswasnotlikedinthevillage.
"Youneverwalkatthistimeofnight?"sheaskedMrs.Flanders.
"Itiscertainlywonderfullymild,"saidMrs.Flanders.
YetitwasyearssinceshehadopenedtheorchardgateandgoneoutonDodsHillafterdinner.
"Itisperfectlydry,"saidMrs.Jarvis,astheyshuttheorcharddoorandsteppedontotheturf.
"Ishan'tgofar,"saidBettyFlanders."Yes,JacobwillleaveParisonWednesday."
"Jacobwasalwaysmyfriendofthethree,"saidMrs.Jarvis.
"Now,mydear,Iamgoingnofurther,"saidMrs.Flanders.TheyhadclimbedthedarkhillandreachedtheRomancamp.
Therampartroseattheirfeet—thesmoothcirclesurroundingthecamporthegrave.HowmanyneedlesBettyFlan