The Novels of May Sarton Volume One by May Sarton

Author:May Sarton [Sarton May]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781504049689
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2017-10-07T00:00:00+00:00

The next morning she climbed the hill with Ian, for he would not go of course without making the classic walk to the classic view of Dene’s Court. They stumbled on tussocks of thick grass, watching the sheep O’Neil had finally brought over stare at them and then dash off in groups, never able to make up their minds singly, driven together if at all.

“Such stupid animals,” Sally said as if it were their fault and they might at least try to be more intelligent.

“I should never have come.” Ian walked with his head down, seeing nothing. “I’ve ruined everything.”

“Aunt Violet doesn’t like you very much, if that’s what you mean,” Sally said drily. She had not meant to be cruel, but found she could not help it.

“Of course that’s not what I mean.”

“I wonder if you know what you mean,” Sally became gentle. “You’ve got to want one thing more than anything else, to know.”

“I want to be a good actor,” Ian said vehemently. “I want to know everything about people,” and then he turned and faced her, “Why did you say that about your aunt?”

Sally laughed a funny dry laugh which it hurt to do. “Because it’s true. Now that I’ve been able to separate you from myself I see that you’re like a chameleon. Ever since you’ve come, Ian, you haven’t been real for a moment. I’m clumsy, I bungle, and fall down. I don’t fit in, but at least I’m real,” Sally said with a kind of triumph. She turned away to go on climbing the hill, doggedly. Ian followed a few steps behind. Kicking a tussock, he nearly stumbled.

When she looked back she saw him against the unyielding stone face of the house. He was standing there, small and frail, obviously undecided whether to be angry or not, and as she watched he looked up and met her gaze for a second before he looked away, frowning. Even two days before she would have been drawn as if by a magnet to touch this face where so many things were written so quickly, so intensely, and then erased. But now what she saw was the house behind him and she knew that what she wanted above all was to marry and to have children and to bring her children here. And this wish had nothing now to do with Ian who was some extreme private enterprise in which nothing for a time had existed or could exist except her feeling for him, a feeling all in the present, having no future before it. But if he had kissed me, she thought with terror, would I have known all this?

Just then Violet and Charles came out on the terrace and waved. Sally watched them, and watched Ian wave back excitedly, and it reminded her of the time long ago when she had come here with Charles. Then the house and she had seemed pitted against each other and the house was her enemy.

“There,” she said as Ian stood beside her, panting from the climb, “there it is.

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