Half Moon Street by Anne Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

interpreted for him. “I think what Mr. Fielding is saying is that one person’s protection may be another person’s imprisonment; or one person’s idea of freedom another’s idea of license,” he explained. “If we refuse to look at anyone else’s pain because it is different from ours and makes us feel uncomfortable—or because it is the same and embarrasses us—then we are neither a liberal nor a generous society, and we will slowly suffocate ourselves to death.”
    “Good heavens!” Mr. Marchand said softly. “You are very radical, sir.”
    “I thought I was rather conservative,” Pitt said with surprise. “I found the play distinctly uncomfortable as well.”
    “But do you think it should be suppressed?” Joshua said quickly.
    Pitt hesitated. “That’s a harsh step to take. . . .”
    “It subverts decency and family life,” Mrs. Marchand put in, leaning forward over her taffeta skirts, her hands folded.
    “It questions values,” Joshua corrected. “Must we never do that? Then how can we grow? We shall never learn anything or improve upon anything. Worse than that, we shall never understand other people, and perhaps not ourselves either.” His face was keen, the emotion naked now as he forgot his intended moderation. “If we do that we are hardly worth the nobility of being human, of having intelligence, freedom of will, or the power of judgment.”
    Caroline could see the imminent possibility of the discussion’s becoming ugly and a friendship’s being lost.
    “It is a matter of how they are questioned,” she said in haste.
    Joshua regarded her seriously. “The image that has the power to disturb is the only one that has the power to change. Growth is often painful, but to not grow is to begin to die.”
    “Are you saying everything perishes sooner or later?” Mr. Marchand asked. He sounded almost casual, but there was a rigidity in his hands, in his body, which belied any ease. “I don’t believe that. I am sure there are values which are eternal.”
    Joshua straightened up. “Of course there are,” he agreed. “It is a matter of understanding them, and that is more difficult. One must test the truth often, or it will become polluted by ignorance and misuse.” He smiled, but his eyes were steady. “It’s like the dusting in a good household. It has to be done every day.”
    Hope Marchand looked puzzled. She glanced at Caroline, then away again.
    Mr. Marchand offered her his arm. “I think it is time we returned to our seats, my dear. We don’t wish to spoil other people’s enjoyment by disturbing them when the performance has begun.” He turned to Caroline. “So nice to see you again, Mrs. Fielding.” Then to Pitt and to Joshua he added, “And to meet you, Mr. Pitt. I hope you enjoy the evening.” A moment later they were gone.
    Caroline took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
    Joshua grinned at her. The expression lit his face with warmth and laughter, and her fear evaporated. She wanted to warn him how close he had come to confusing and hurting people, to explain why they were afraid, but her anger evaporated, and instead she simply smiled back.
    The lights dimmed and the curtain rose for the second act.
    Caroline directed her attention to the stage, where the drama continued to develop. It could only end in tragedy. The character played by Cecily Antrim hungered for more passion in life than the society in which she was could either give or understand. She was trapped among people who were increasingly disturbed and frightened by her.
    Her husband would not divorce her, and she had no power to divorce him and no justification to leave. Even her misery was from no cause she could explain to anyone who did not share it.
    Whether she could ever have behaved differently was a question not yet raised, but Caroline was asking herself even while the scene was playing itself out in front of her. She did not wish to identify with Cecily Antrim, a creature of ungovernable