“Has he?”
“Yes, that woman he married. She was just a natural tart. Very attractive and quite good-natured, but completely amoral. He didn’t see her like that.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“And she let him down-badly-and he was terribly cut up about it. He blamed himself, thought he’d failed her in some way. He’s no blame for her, you know, only pity.”
“He has too much pity.”
“Can one have too much pity?”
“Yes, it makes you unable to see straight.”
“Besides,” he added, “it’s an insult.”
“What do you mean?”
“It implies just what the Pharisee’s prayer implied. ‘Lord, I thank Thee I am not as this man.’ ”
“Aren’t you ever sorry for anyone?”
“Yes. I’m human. But I’m afraid of it.”
“What harm could it do?”
“It might lead to action.”
“Would that be wrong?”
“It might have very bad results.”
“For you?”
“No, no, not for me. For the other person.”
“Then what should one do if one’s sorry for a person?”
“Leave them where they belong-in God’s hands.”
“That sounds terribly implacable-and harsh.”
“It’s not nearly so dangerous as yielding to facile pity.”
She leaned towards him.
“Tell me, are you sorry for me-at all?”
“I am trying not to be.”
“Why not?”
“In case I should help you to feel sorry for yourself.”
“You don’t think I am-sorry for myself?”
“Are you?”
“No,” she said slowly. “Not really. I’ve got all-mixed up somehow, and that must be my own fault.”
“It usually is, but in your case it may not be.”
“Tell me-you’re wise, you go about preaching to people-what ought I to do?”
“You know.”
She looked at him and suddenly, unexpectedly, she laughed. It was a gay, gallant laugh.
“Yes,” she said. “I know. Quite well. Fight.”
Part 4 – As It Was In The Beginning – 1956
CHAPTER one
Llewellyn looked up at the building before he entered it.
It was drab like the street in which it stood. Here, in this quarter of London, war damage and general decay still reigned The effect was depressing. Llewellyn himself felt depressed. The errand which he had come to perform was a painful one. He did not exactly shrink from it, but he was aware that he would be glad when he had discharged it to the best of his ability.
He sighed, squared his shoulders, and went up a short Bight of steps and through a swing door.
The inside of the building was busy, but busy in an orderly and controlled fashion. Hurrying but disciplined feet sped along the corridors. A young woman in a dull blue uniform paused beside him.
“What can I do for you?”
“I wish to see Miss Franklin.”
“I’m sorry. Miss Franklin can’t see anyone this morning. I will take you to the secretary’s office.”
He insisted gently on seeing Miss Franklin.
“It is important,” he said, and added: “If you will please give her this letter.”
The young woman took him into a minute waiting-room and sped away. Five minutes later a round woman with a kindly face and an eager manner came to him.
“I’m Miss Harrison, Miss Franklin’s secretary. I’m afraid you will have to wait a few minutes. Miss Franklin is with one of the children who is just coming out of the anaesthetic after an operation.”
Llewellyn thanked her and began to ask questions. She brightened at once, and talked eagerly about the Worley Foundation for Sub-Normal Children.
“It’s quite an old foundation, you know. Dates back to 1840: Nathaniel Worley, our founder, was a mill-owner.” Her voice ran on. “So unfortunate-the funds dwindled, investments brought in so much less… and rising costs… of course there were faults of administration. But since Miss Franklin has been superintendent…”
Her face lighted up, the speed of her words increased.
Miss Franklin was clearly the sun in her heaven. Miss Franklin had cleaned the Augean stables, Miss Franklin had reorganised this and that, Miss Franklin had battled with authority and won, and now, equally clearly, Miss Franklin reigned supreme, and all was for the best in the best of possible worlds. Llewellyn wondered why women’s enthusiasms for other women always sounded so pitifully crude. He doubted if he should like the efficient Miss Franklin. She was, he thought, of the order of Queen Bees. Other women buzzed round them, and they waxed and throve on the power thus accorded to them.