It was one of the signs of the times that he most deplored. The mother
of the young 'Grundys' countered him at once: In practice she agreed
that they were out of place, but theoretically she could not see
why they should not climb. An American standing near threw all into
confusion by saying he guessed that it might be liable to develop their
understandings. Lennan made for the front door. The moon had just come
up over in the South, and exactly under it he could see their mountain.
What visions he had then! He saw her lying dead, saw himself climbing
down in the moonlight and raising her still-living, but half-frozen,
form from some perilous ledge. Even that was almost better than this
actuality of not knowing where she was, or what had happened. People
passed out into the moonlight, looking curiously at his set face staring
so fixedly. One or two asked him if he were anxious, and he answered:
"Oh no, thanks!" Soon there would have to be a search party. How soon?
He would, he must be, of it! They should not stop him this time. And
suddenly he thought: Ah, it is all because I stayed up there this
afternoon talking to that girl, all because I forgot HER!

And then he heard a stir behind him. There they were, coming down
the passage from a side door--she in front with her alpenstock and
rucksack--smiling. Instinctively he recoiled behind some plants. They
passed. Her sunburned face, with its high cheek-bones and its deep-set
eyes, looked so happy; smiling, tired, triumphant. Somehow he could not
bear it, and when they were gone by he stole out into the wood and threw
himself down in shadow, burying his face, and choking back a horrible
dry sobbing that would keep rising in his throat.


IX