Page:The Painted Veil - Maugham - 1925.djvu/87

 at the map of China which was hanging on the wall in front of him. She watched him anxiously. She was somewhat disconcerted at the manner in which he had received the news. She had expected him to take her in his arms and tell her he was thankful, for now they could be together always; but of course men were funny. She was crying softly, not now to arouse sympathy, but because it seemed the natural thing to do.

“This is a bloody mess we’ve got into,” he said at length. “But it’s no good losing our heads. Crying isn’t going to do us any good, you know.”

She noticed the irritation in his voice and dried her eyes.

“It’s not my fault, Charlie. I couldn’t help it.”

“Of course you couldn’t. It was just damned bad luck. I was just as much to blame as you were. The thing to do now is to see how we’re going to get out of it. I don’t suppose you want to be divorced any more than I do.”

She smothered a gasp. She gave him a searching look. He was not thinking of her at all.

“I wonder what his proofs really are. I don’t know how he can actually prove that we were together in that room. On the whole we’ve been about as careful as any one could be. I’m sure that old fellow at the curio shop wouldn’t have given us away. Even if he’d seen us go in there’s no reason why we shouldn’t hunt curios together.”

He was talking to himself rather than to her.

“It’s easy enough to bring charges, but it’s damned difficult to prove them; any lawyer will tell