Eric tried to lose himself in the music. When that failed, he analyzed the orchestration and concentrated his attention on the conducting. Barbara’s presence made itself felt, and he knew that, for all preoccupation, he was waiting until the stage was dark enough for him to lean forward and steal a glance at her between Lady Maitland’s square grey head and Ivy’s dancing black curls. When he turned slowly and looked at her with all the artificial calm that he could put forth, she was sitting with one arm on the sill of the box, fingering a big fan and watching the stage with rapt enjoyment. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
At the end of the act Sir Maurice and Lady Maitland hurried away, and he moved into the empty chair at the front of the box. Barbara was evidently holding a court; her back was turned to the house, and he could see a phalanx of men breaking rank, shaking hands, exchanging a word and squeezing their way out again. George was supporting her adequately, easily, as though it were natural and as though he were her husband as of right, never seeing that he was a grotesque usurper....
“Are you going to smoke?,” Ivy asked him, as he laid the glasses down.
“I don’t think so,—unless you’d like to.”
“I prefer just to watch the people. I love the opera! I love the music and the acting, I love the house and the people and the dresses and the jewellery. I’ve been here every night since the beginning.”
Eric forced himself to take an interest in her though her enthusiasm jarred on him.
“You’re living with Lady Maitland, aren’t you?,” he asked.
“Yes. She wanted a sort of secretary to arrange her parties and answer her letters and deal with the telephone... I’m quite enjoying it.”
“Well, I had a hand in it. I was so shocked—I don’t mean morally, but you seemed so utterly forlorn and miserable that night when I came to see you... Are you happy now?”
She looked away without answering for some moments:
“If I thought about it, I should be very unhappy. So I try not to think about it. I try to enjoy myself and keep so busy... I miss the freedom. It’s great fun being with Aunt Connie; she’s giving me an awfully good time, and I’ve all the money and clothes I need; and I’m meeting the most wonderfully interesting people—_You_ know what her parties are like.”