Jerrold covered his face with his hands. He didn't know.
His mother went on in a voice of perfect sweetness. "Don't imagine I
think a bit the worse of Anne. She's been simply splendid. I never saw
anything like her devotion. She's brought Colin round out of the most
appalling state. We've no business to complain of a situation we're all
benefitting by. Some people can do these things and you forgive them.
Whatever Anne does or doesn't do she'll always be a perfect darling. As
for Queenie, I don't consider her for a minute. She's been simply asking
for it."
He wondered whether it were really true. It didn't follow that Anne and
Colin were lovers because his mother said so; even supposing that she
really thought it.
"You don't go telling everybody, I hope?" he said.
"My dear Jerrold, what do you think I'm made of? I haven't even told
Anne's father. I've only told you because I thought you ought to know."
"I see; you want to put me off Anne?"
"I don't _want_ to. But it would, wouldn't it?"
"Oh Lord, yes, if it was true. Perhaps it isn't."
"Jerry dear, it may be awfully immoral of me, but for Colin's sake I
can't help hoping that it is. I did so want Anne to marry Colin--really
he's only right when he's with her--and if Queenie divorces him I
suppose she will."
"But, mother, you _are_ going ahead. You may be quite wrong."
"I may. You can only suppose--"
"How on earth am I to know? I can't ask them."
"No, you can't ask them."
Of course he couldn't. He couldn't go to Colin and say, "Are you Anne's
lover?" He couldn't go to Anne and say, "Are you Colin's mistress?"
"If they wanted us to know," said Adeline, "they'd have told us. There
you are."
"Supposing it isn't true, do you imagine he cares for her?"
"Yes, Jerrold. I'm quite, quite sure of that. I was down there last week
and saw them. He can't bear her out of his sight one minute. He couldn't
not care."
"And Anne?"
"Oh, well, Anne isn't going to give herself away. But I'm certain...
Would she stick down there, with everybody watching them and thinking
things and talking, if she didn't care so much that nothing matters?"
"But would she--would she--"
The best of his mother was that in these matters her mind jumped to meet
yours halfway. You hadn't got to put things into words.
"My dear, if you think she wouldn't, supposing she cared enough, you
don't know Anne."
"I shall go down," he said, "and see her."
"If you do, for goodness' sake be careful. Even supposing there's
nothing in it, you mustn't let Colin see you think there is. He'd feel
then that he ought to leave her for fear of compromising her. And if he
leaves her he'll be as bad as ever again. And _I_ can't manage him.
Nobody can manage him but Anne. That's how they've tied our hands. We
can't say anything."