'It all depends on what you call love.'
'I mean that I love you both in different ways.'
'What you mean, Sam, is that you don't love me any longer but you still desire me; whereas you do love Margery—for her worthiness, and all that. But you've no particular desire to sleep with her.'
'On the contrary. I think one thing goes with the other; anyhow, for a man like myself. And most people would consider Margery darned good-looking if you didn't happen to be about.'
'Yes, she's only twenty-six, and decidedly attractive in a saintly sort of way. I suppose what's got you down is that you've been a casual bad-hat all your life but never before run into a good-looking woman who goes about clad in woollens and a halo. But that's beside the point. What I imagine you're trying to tell me is that if we were living in a normal way you'd ask me to divorce you so that you could marry her.'
'Oh, God!' Sam groaned. 'This is simply frightful. We've only been married ourselves just under three months.'
'I know. But having been cooped up for so long in this thing, where we haven't been out of each other's sight except when asleep, has made all the difference, and that has come practically on top of our five weeks' honeymoon when we hardly saw a soul. We've spent more hours together since our marriage than most married people do in a couple of years. Besides, life in the Ark is so totally unlike the sort of life we'd be living if the comet had never appeared. This sort of existence has brought out all my very worst points. I'm lazy, thoughtless, unpractical, and very easily get bored; whereas Margery, being the perfect hausfrau, has had a marvellous opportunity to do her stuff. Naturally, by comparison, she appears as a shining example of what a good woman should be. I'm not a good woman, Sam, and I've never pretended to be, but I would never willingly have let you down.'
Sam knew that every word she spoke was true, and he marvelled at the cold logic with which she summed up the situation. 'It's my fault entirely,' he admitted unhappily. 'You've got qualities that Margery hasn't, but you've had little chance to show them in the last few weeks; whereas she's had all the opportunities she could possibly wish for to show hers. That doesn't excuse me, I know, but it is a fact; and I'm desperately worried as to what to do about the future. You see, I want to be fair to both of you, but I don't see how it's possible.'
Lavina smiled a little bitterly. 'As far as I can see, the future isn't going to be very different from the past few weeks. The whole world has been drowned; so there's no prospect of our getting anywhere, and very little of our meeting any other people. We'll have to pig it in some collection of ruins, I suppose, and I shall be no more use to anybody than I am now. But Margery could run a derelict cottage for you perfectly, cook your meals, clean your house, put your slippers by the fire to warm, and all the rest of it; while you cultivated a bit of land with some of the seeds and things we've got. Besides, she could give you children, and you'd like children— wouldn't you, Sam,'
'Yes,' he nodded.
'Well, I'm not playing. I might have, if I could have had a Harley Street gynaecologist to look after me and all the usual comforts; but I'm damned if I'm going to have a baby like a peasant girl in a cow-shed, and work myself to death bringing the brat up.'
'No. I shouldn't ask you to. You weren't made for that sort of thing; nor, for that matter, to slave in any workaday world. You were born to be served, and to reward men for their service only with your beauty. Where you're unfortunate is that, our civilisation having gone down the drain, it looks as if we'll have to live out the rest of our lives in primitive conditions; and in primitive societies there is not much call for idle women however decorative they may be. But what do you suggest?'
'Well, as it happens, Sam, I'm rather fond of you and, as I am your wife, I have first claim to your protection and support in this lousy dead world that is all that's left to us. You took me on knowing my qualities and I'm still good entertainment. I suppose you agree that by all the laws of God and man, and all the decencies, it's still up to you to fend for me even if I refuse to do a hand's turn?'
'Yes, I quite agree about that.'
'Then I think we'd better leave things for a month. During that time I can make up my mind as to whether I want to keep you; and, since you say you do still love me, you'll have a chance to decide if that's really true. You'll be able to say definitely by then if Margery's good-womanishness and Victorian morality are quite enough compensation for all you'd lose if you lost me.'
'That's very sound,' Sam agreed, 'and damned decent of you. I think you've behaved frightfully well about this and I'm more grateful than I can say; but then, you never were a mean-spirited person. I don't think you've ever done a mean thing in your life.'
'Thanks,' said Lavina calmly, standing up. 'Anyhow, we know where we are now and I'll let you know my decision on the 7th of September. In the meantime, though, I shall consider myself perfectly free to amuse myself, if I wish, with Derek—or Hemmingway.'
She had already turned her back as she uttered the last words, and before Sam could say anything further, she had closed her cabin door behind her.
Calamity
As Sam moved over to the table to mix himself a drink, he was thinking that Lavina had really behaved very fairly. The interview that he had been dreading so much all day was over and there had been no fireworks or bitter recriminations. But then, he had been unjust to Lavina in even thinking that there might be. In any emotional crisis she could always be counted upon to preserve her dignity, which was one of the reasons why her father referred to her as The Princess.
How damnably attractive she looked, Sam thought, in that old dressing-gown she had dug out before leaving Stapleton Court. He had long ago decided, in fact, that she was even more bewitching in the oddest garments than when wearing the most expensive clothes; with the exception, perhaps, of evening dress, in which she became breath-takingly lovely.
He dismissed her mention of Hemmingway without a second thought but her statement that she would consider herself free to amuse herself with Derek gave him much food for uneasy speculation. Although he had always tried to regard their casual intimacy as the natural outcome of a very old friendship he had never liked it, and now, here was Lavina threatening to 'amuse' herself with Derek. What sort of amusement could Lavina have in mind in which she did not already indulge with her good-looking friend? Too late, Sam saw that, owing to his own action, he had put himself in a situation in which he could no longer complain about their friendship. Margery, of course, was a wonderful woman but Lavina had a lot of things that no other woman he'd ever met had got, and he had not yet entirely lost her. By the time he went to bed the wretched Sam was as miserable as he had been an hour earlier, and hopelessly undecided as to which of the two sisters he wanted to have as his constant companion for the rest of his life.
When morning came the snow was still falling, the sphere was high and dry and the edge of the flood had receded a mile or more southwards. The whole landscape was now a wintry scene of ice and snow.
The change in the weather provided them with one advantage: they would no longer have to plod about in ankle-deep mud as Sam and Hemmingway had had to on the previous day. The land was now frozen, so after breakfast, having wrapped themselves in their warmest garments, the whole party were able to walk across it with comparative ease as they set out to explore the surrounding country.
On the other hand the snow limited their range of vision, and although they spent the whole morning trying to find the grey stone house that had been sighted on the previous day, they were unable to locate it. By midday they had decided to give up the search and turned back along their tracks in the snow towards the Ark.