STREETS AND HOUSES
191
Margaret, how glorious this is!" And, because now that the first shock
of surprise was over she mainly wanted to be friends again, wanted
again Margaret's understanding, she regretted this first lie-she found
nothing- glorious; as soon as she had entered the restaurant she had
loathed it. Its tinkle of china exasperated her, aggravating her resent–
ment of their fulfilling so abjectly the convention that simply because
she and Margaret had happened on each other they must at once fly
to the first haven ·offered and act out a lively interest. And though
she acknowledged her interest she took pleasure in not allowing her
resentment of it to be lessened
(this
was typical of her, she thought).
So to Margaret she presented her irritation in its envelope of gaiety,
reserving for herself her other attitudes, other feelings; and went on
brightly, deliberately striking false notes, "Now! Now we shall look
at each other!" and ostentatiously followed her own admonition,
though she had already seen (and Margaret moreover knew she had
seen) the sameness of Margaret's tall, handsome figure in the hand–
some black suit, of her thoughtful, not pretty face, of her white gloves
(Margaret had always loved white gloves), which Margaret now
pulled slowly off. Sally looked at the white gloves, the narrow hands,
and suddenly her eyes filled with tears-"Dear Margaret!" she said
tenderly, remembering the old intimacy of confidence, wanting pas–
sionately to renew it with the infinitely fuller knowledge she had
gained, and that Margaret had so clearly gained as well-what a
rich and documented story they could tell
now!
But because Margaret, at last sinking down on the soft seat, only
smiled shyly with her curious lagging response, Sally's annoyance
recaptured her and compelled her to be brisk, to speed things up, with
quick and gay words to prevent hersel! from showing her annoyance,
which she felt would weaken her position. "Well!" she cried, "that's
over! What a relief!
You
look well,
I
look well, we haven't aged
hideously (aren't we lucky?) and now we: can get on!"
"Yes, we look well," Margaret said absently, gazing across the
small white table; suddenly breaking out, "Oh Sally, my dear, what's
been happening to you all these years? It must, it really must,
be
good
things!"
As
she answered, "Well, some good things, anyway," Sally
thought, yes, Margaret would want it to be good things, she really
would; and she was ashamed to have already trie:d to hurt Margaret,
frightened to have already allowed herself to put the mean wish to
get the better of Margaret ahead of the wish to share equally with
her a new illumination.
Here the waiter intervened, a small sandy man, and Margaret
