Vincent remained in remarkably good spirits all afternoon, and when Reijer called he advised the patient not to excite himself too much. As for America — later, perhaps, but for the time being travel was out of the question. In the interim Mr Vere would do well to take a short stroll or a brief ride in the carriage to start with, what with the weather being so mild.
Betsy promptly ordered the landau for half-past two, and off they went: Vincent, herself and Eline. In the bright light outside Eline was shocked to see how grey Vincent’s complexion was above the white-silk foulard draped about his neck, how dulled and frail he looked in his smart liver-coloured demi-season and shiny top hat. He leant stiffly against the cushions, keeping very still, his gloved hands resting on the silver knob of his cane. He felt light in the head, even a little groggy, and had he not been seated would have keeled over from the effect of the oxygen filling his lungs. His eyes smarted, so he closed them a moment, while his ears throbbed and the carriage wheels spun round in his brain. But gradually he became accustomed to the cool, fresh air and the wide vistas unfolding before his eyes at each bend in the road, and his breathing became deep and regular. He felt mildly invigorated, and his nerves regaining a little strength.
Eline did her best to converse brightly, addressing him and Betsy by turns. Upon their return an after an hour or so, she helped Vincent alight from the carriage and took his arm to lead him upstairs to her sitting room. She helped him out of his coat, after which he dropped on to the couch, quite exhausted from the outing. He asked her to leave him alone for a while, as he wished to take a nap.
Betsy instructed the servants that she was receiving, and in due course several callers arrived: Madame Eekhof accompanied by Ange and Léonie, Madame Hovel and the Hijdrecht boy. Henk had gone to his club, but Eline joined the company in the tempered light of the salon, and presently Otto was shown in, too. When he entered the room Eline did not feel the thrill of warmth and contentment his appearance normally inspired in her, but icecold indifference. Oh God, how could that be? How could all that warmth have suddenly turned to ice? She did not know, but it was so, and she was powerless to change it. She nodded sweetly at him and extended her hand, feeling a pang of conscience as she did so, and held on to it while she continued telling Hijdrecht about the new chanteuse légère at the opera. She could not bear to look at Otto, all she could do was hold his hand and prattle on. What Hijdrecht said in response she scarcely heard, for her heart brimmed with pity for Otto. . There he stood, by her side, his hand in hers, and she could feel his soft, kindly gaze resting on her, and his breath almost ruffling her hair as he leant over the back of her chair; there he was, radiating love, while she. . she felt as cold as ice! No, no, this could not be, she would not allow it, she would compel herself. . she pitied him too much. . he loved her too much. .
‘Nily, dear child, what is the matter?’ he murmured while Hijdrecht and the ladies rose to their feet. He could feel the nervous pressure of her fingers on his hand.
‘Me? With me? Nothing, a slight headache that’s all,’ she said haltingly, facing him for the first time that afternoon. He gazed into her eyes, and she felt an urge to fling herself into his arms, to hold him very tight and never let him go again. .
Instead, she smiled and shook hands first with Madame Eekhof, then with Ange.
‘Is there nothing to be done? Has it gone for ever?’ she thought in despair.
They had a few minutes alone before dinner.
‘Nily, my dearest, are you sure you are all right?’ he asked anxiously. ‘Your hand is so cold.’
‘I feel a little feverish. We went for a drive this afternoon, in the open landau, with Vincent. . I can’t imagine why Reijer recommended it. I thought it was cold, freezing cold.’
‘Let’s hope you haven’t caught anything.’
‘No, it will pass, I’m sure.’
She smiled at him weakly, and all at once, in a surge of hopeless anguish, she flung her arms about him.
‘How sweet of you to be so concerned about me,’ she whispered, and her voice broke. ‘You are so good, and. . I love you so much. I love you so very, very much. .’
. .
Vincent did not yet feel well enough to join them for lunch that day. Betsy told Otto about the letter that had arrived with news of a position for Vincent in New York.
‘And when is he thinking of going?’
‘As soon as he is fit again. Thank God we’ll be seeing the back of him.’
Eline could not contain herself.
‘Reijer says he mustn’t even think of travelling for the next several weeks!’ she said sharply, glaring at Betsy. ‘But you—’
‘What?’
‘If it weren’t for the sake of decency you’d turn him out into the street today, ill as he is!’
‘If I could, yes, I certainly would. And let me tell you once and for alclass="underline" I shall never have him to stay again. I haven’t known anyone to outstay their welcome like this!’
‘But Betsy, he’s practically dying!’ Eline cried out, quivering with rage.
‘Don’t be absurd!’
‘Absurd? Can’t you see how ill he looks?’ she shrieked.
‘Oh please, Eline, let’s not quibble about Vincent. He’s not worth it. You’re being melodramatic; stop making such a fuss.’
‘Ah yes, “Don’t make a fuss” — that’s what you always say when anyone shows the least bit of feeling! But you — you’re just plain heartless!’
‘Eline!’ murmured Otto.
Gerard entered, bearing the meat dish. A painful silence prevailed.
‘You forgot the gravy, Gerard,’ snapped Betsy, and the manservant withdrew.
‘You — why, you’d trample on anyone who happened to be the least bit in your way! You won’t put up with the slightest bother for the sake of anyone else! You’re a downright egotist! You think of no one but yourself, and you don’t even understand that not everyone is as mean as you, and—’
‘Eline!’ remonstrated Otto, glancing at the door as Gerard reentered with a gravy boat.
‘Oh, stop saying Eline, Eline! Qu’est ce que me fait cet homme!’ Eline burst out, switching to French so the servant would not understand. ‘I don’t care what he thinks! Betsy just won’t see it, but I assure you, Vincent is dying. He fell asleep in my room, as white as a sheet, completely worn out by that stupid ride recommended by Dr Reijer; and I won’t have you accusing him of being indiscreet or anything like that. If he hadn’t been so ill I’m quite sure he would never stayed here this long.’
She spoke passionately, eyes aflame, and the words spilled from her lips with haughty, needle-sharp acuity.
Betsy too seethed with rage as she waited for Gerard to withdraw, but she said nothing. Henk gave an involuntary sigh.
‘Nily my darling,’ said Otto, ‘I have nothing against Vincent, and no particular sympathy for him either, but I can’t say I shall be sorry to see him go, because—’
‘Not you too?’ she snapped.
‘May I finish?’ he pursued, clasping her icy hand. ‘I mean that I will be glad to see him go if his presence in this house goes on upsetting you as much as it has today. You don’t know what you’re saying, Nily, or what you sound like.’
His calm words infuriated her.
‘And you — you’re always calm, you never get excited about anything, do you?’ she burst out, almost screaming. She sprang to her feet, throwing her napkin on the table. ‘It’s driving me mad, all that calmness! Oh God, it’s driving me mad! Betsy drives me mad with her egotism, and you with your calmness, yes, your calmness! I–I — can’t stand it any more! You’re suffocating me!’