Ruling The
Roundabout meant ruling Mrs. Rossiter and he was surprised at the ease with
which he won his victory over that lady. Had he considered it more deeply
that easy victory might have seemed to him ominous.
At luncheon on the day after his talk with Clare they three sat
together--Mrs. Rossiter silent, Clare silent, Peter silent.
Suddenly Peter said: "Oh by the way, Clare, I telephoned for seats this
morning for the new thing at the Criterion. I got two stalls."
They had not been to the theatre together since Stephen's death.
Clare lifted a white face--"I don't think I--"
"Oh yes," said Peter, smiling across at her--"you'll enjoy it."
Mrs. Rossiter stroking her large bosom with a flat white hand said, "I
don't think Clare--"
"Oh yes," said Peter again, "it will do her good."
Mrs. Rossiter smiled. "Get another stall, Peter, and I will come too."
"I'm afraid," said Peter very politely, "that it's too late. The piece is a
thumping success. I was very lucky to get any seats at all."
And then Mrs. Rossiter subsided, absolutely subsided ... very strange.
That was not a very happy evening. Clare scarcely spoke, she answered him
with "Yes" and "No," she sat in the stalls looking like a little unhappy
ghost. She did not in any way repulse him--she let him take her hand coming
home in the cab. She shivered and he asked whether she were cold and she
said, Yes, she thought that she was.
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