He touched his cap and stolidly set the car in motion。 He
seemed to have a league with her to ignore Skrebensky。
The latter sat as if trapped within the taxi…cab； his face
still working； whilst occasionally he made quick slight
movements of the head； to shake away his tears。 He never moved
his hands。 She could not bear to look at him。 She sat with face
uplifted and averted to the window。
At length； when she had regained some control over herself；
she turned again to him。 He was much quieter。 His face was wet；
and twitched occasionally； his hands still lay motionless。 But
his eyes were quite still； like a washed sky after rain； full of
a ost ghost…like。
A pain flamed in her womb； for him。
〃I didn't think I should hurt you；〃 she said； laying her hand
very lightly； tentatively； on his arm。 〃The words came without
my knowing。 They didn't mean anything； really。〃
He remained quite still； hearing； but washed all wan and
without feeling。 She waited； looking at him； as if he were some
curious； not…understandable creature。
〃You won't cry again； will you； Tony？〃
Some shame and bitterness against her burned him in the
question。 She noticed how his moustache was soddened wet with
tears。 Taking her handkerchief； she wiped his face。 The driver's
heavy； stolid back remained always turned to them； as if
conscious but indifferent。 Skrebensky sat motionless whilst
Ursula wiped his face； softly； carefully； and yet clumsily； not
as well as he would have wiped it himself。
Her handkerchief was too small。 It was soon wet through。 She
groped in his pocket for his own。 Then； with its more ample