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minute！〃 Yes； it was only on such terms that one could call
one's soul one's own。 The sense of it gave Susy the grace to
answer amicably： 〃If I could possibly help you out； Violet； I
shouldn't want a present to persuade me。 And； as you say；
there's no reason why I should sacrifice myself to Ursulaor to
anybody else。 Only； as it happens〃she paused and took the
plunge〃I'm going to England because I've promised to see a
friend。〃 That night she wrote to Strefford。
XVI
STRETCHED out under an awning on the deck of the Ibis； Nick
Lansing looked up for a moment at the vanishing cliffs of Malta
and then plunged again into his book。
He had had nearly three weeks of drug…taking on the Ibis。 The
drugs he had absorbed were of two kinds： visions of fleeing
landscapes； looming up from the blue sea to vanish into it
again； and visions of study absorbed from the volumes piled up
day and night at his elbow。 For the first time in months he was
in reach of a real library； just the kind of scholarly yet
miscellaneous library； that his restless and impatient spirit
craved。 He was aware that the books he read； like the fugitive
scenes on which he gazed； were merely a form of anesthetic： he
swallowed them with the careless greed of the sufferer who seeks
only to still pain and deaden memory。 But they were beginning
to produce in him a moral languor that was not disagreeable；
that； indeed； compared with the fierce pain of the first days；
was almost pleasurable。 It was exactly the kind of drug that he
needed。
There is probably no point on which the average man has more
definite views than on the uselessness of writing a letter that
is hard to write。 In the line he had sent to Susy from Genoa
Nick had told her that she would hear from him again in a few
days； but when the few days had passed； and he began to consider
setting himself to the task； he found fifty reasons for
postponing it。
Had there been any practical questions to write about it would
have been different； he could not have borne for twenty…four
hours the idea that she was in uncertainty as to money。 But
that had all been settled long ago。 From the first she had had
the administering of their modest fortune。 On their marriage
Nick's own meagre income； paid in； none too regularly； by the
agent who had managed for years the dwindling family properties；
had been transferred to her： it was the only wedding present he
could make。 And the wedding cheques had of course all been
deposited in her name。 There were therefore no 〃business〃
reasons for communicating with her； and when it came to reasons
of another order the mere thought of them benumbed him。
For the first few days he reproached himself for his inertia；
then he began to seek reasons for justifying it。 After all； for
both their sakes a waiting policy might be the wisest he could
pursue。 He had left Susy because he could not tolerate the
conditions on which he had discovered their life together to be
based； and he had told her so。 What more was there to say？
Nothing was changed in their respective situations； if they came
together it could be only to resume the same life； and that； as
the days went by； seemed to him more and more impossible。 He
had not yet reached the point of facing a definite separation；
but whenever his thoughts travelled back over their past life he
recoiled from any attempt to return to it。 As long as this
state of mind continued there seemed nothing to add to the
letter he had already written； except indeed the statement that
he was cruising with the Hickses。 And he saw no pressing reason
for communicating that。
To the Hickses he had given no hint of his situation。 When
Coral Hicks； a fortnight earlier； had picked him up in the
broiling streets of Genoa； and carried him off to the Ibis； he
had thought only of a cool dinner and perhaps a moonlight sail。
Then； in reply to their friendly urging； he had confessed that
he had not been wellhad indeed gone off hurriedly for a few
days' change of airand that left him without defence against
the immediate proposal that he should take his change of air on
the Ibis。 They were just off to Corsica and Sardinia； and from
there to Sicily： he could rejoin the railway at Naples； and be
back at Venice in ten days。
Ten days of respitethe temptation was irresistible。 And he
really liked the kind uncomplicated Hickses。 A wholesome
honesty and simplicity breathed through all their opulence； as
if the rich trappings of their present life still exhaled the
fragrance of their native prairies。 The mere fact of being with
such people was like a purifying bath。 When the yacht touched
at Naples he agreed since they were so awfully kindto go on to
Sicily。 And when the chief steward； going ashore at Naples for
the last time before they got up steam； said： 〃Any letters for
the post； sir？〃 he answered； as he had answered at each previous
halt： 〃No； thank you： none。〃
Now they were heading for Rhodes and CreteCrete； where he had
never been； where he had so often longed to go。 In spite of the
lateness of the season the weather was still miraculously fine：
the short waves danced ahead under a sky without a cloud； and
the strong bows of the Ibis hardly swayed as she flew forward
over the flying crests。
Only his hosts and their daughter were on the yacht…of course
with Eldorada Tooker and Mr。 Beck in attendance。 An eminent
archaeologist； who was to have joined them at Naples； had
telegraphed an excuse at the last moment； and Nick noticed that；
while Mrs。 Hicks was perpetually apologizing for the great man's
absence； Coral merely smiled and said nothing。
As a matter of fact； Mr。 and Mrs。 Hicks were never as pleasant
as when one had them to one's self。 In company； Mr。 Hicks ran
the risk of appearing over…hospitable； and Mrs。 Hicks confused
dates and names in the desire to embrace all culture in her
conversation。 But alone with Nick； their old travelling…
companion； they shone out in their native simplicity； and Mr。
Hicks talked soundly of investments； and Mrs。 Hicks recalled her
early married days in Apex City； when； on being brought home to
her new house in Aeschylus Avenue； her first thought had been：
〃How on earth shall I get all those windows washed？〃
The loss of Mr。 Buttles had been as serious to them as Nick had
supposed： Mr。 Beck could never hope to replace him。 Apart from
his mysterious gift of languages； and his almost superhuman
faculty for knowing how to address letters to eminent people；
and in what terms to conclude them； he had a smattering of
archaeology and general culture on which Mrs。 Hicks had learned
to dependher own memory being； alas； so inadequate to the
range of her interests。
Her daughter might perhaps have helped her； but it was not Miss
Hicks's way to mother her parents。 She was exceedingly kind to
them； but left them； as it were； to b