Jefferson Cope said stiffly: ‘Let me assure you, Dr Gerard, there is nothing dishonourable in that friendship. It is purely platonic.’
‘My dear sir, I am quite sure of that. I repeat, though, that for Mrs Boynton to encourage that friendship is a curious action on her part. You know, Mr Cope, Mrs Boynton interests me—she interests me greatly.’
‘She is certainly a remarkable woman. She has great force of character—a most prominent personality. As I say, Elmer Boynton had the greatest faith in her judgement.’
‘So much so that he was content to leave his children completely at her mercy from the financial point of view. In my country, Mr Cope, it is impossible by law to do such a thing.’
Mr Cope rose. ‘In America,’ he said, ‘we’re great believers in absolute freedom.’
Dr Gerard rose also. He was unimpressed by the remark. He had heard it made before by people of many different nationalities. The illusion that freedom is the prerogative of one’s own particular race is fairly widespread.
Dr Gerard was wiser. He knew that no race, no country and no individual could be described as free. But he also knew that there were different degrees of bondage.
He went up to bed thoughtful and interested.
Chapter 6
Sarah King stood in the precincts of the Temple—the Haramesh-Sherif. Her back was to the Dome of the Rock. The splashing of fountains sounded in her ears. Little groups of tourists passed by without disturbing the peace of the oriental atmosphere.
Strange, thought Sarah, that once a Jebusite should have made this rocky summit into a threshing floor and that David should have purchased it for six hundred shekels of gold and made it a Holy Place. And now the loud chattering tongues of sightseers of all nations could be heard.
She turned and looked at the Mosque which now covered the shrine and wondered if Solomon’s temple would have looked half as beautiful.
There was a clatter of footsteps and a little party came out from the interior of the Mosque. It was the Boyntons escorted by a voluble dragoman. Mrs Boynton was supported between Lennox and Raymond. Nadine and Mr Cope walked behind. Carol came last. As they were moving off, the latter caught sight of Sarah.
She hesitated, then, on a sudden decision, she wheeled round and ran swiftly and noiselessly across the courtyard.
‘Excuse me,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I must—I—I felt I must speak to you.’
‘Yes?’ said Sarah.
Carol was trembling violently. Her face was quite white.
‘It’s about—my brother. When you—you spoke to him last night you must have thought him very rude. But he didn’t mean to be—he—he couldn’t help it. Oh, do please believe me.’
Sarah felt that the whole scene was ridiculous. Both her pride and her good taste were offended. Why should a strange girl suddenly rush up and tender a ridiculous apology for a boorish brother?
An off-hand reply trembled on her lips—and then, quickly, her mood changed.
There was something out of the ordinary here. This girl was in deadly earnest. That something in Sarah which had led her to adopt a medical career reacted to the girl’s need. Her instinct told her there was something badly wrong.
She said encouragingly: ‘Tell me about it.’
‘He spoke to you on the train, didn’t he?’ began Carol.
Sarah nodded. ‘Yes; at least, I spoke to him.’
‘Oh, of course. It would be that way round. But, you see, last night Ray was afraid—’
She stopped.
‘Afraid?’
Carol’s white face crimsoned.
‘Oh, I know it sounds absurd—mad. You see, my mother—she’s—she’s not well—and she doesn’t like us making friends outside. But—but I know Ray would—would like to be friends with you.’
Sarah was interested. Before she could speak, Carol went on: ‘I—I know what I’m saying sounds very silly, but we are—rather an odd family.’ She cast a quick look round—it was a look of fear.