The way he looked, between irony and wickedness, made something go awry inside her. The unvarnished truth, if you would.
He dropped his arm. The general consensus is that you are my friend because you are poor and I am wealthy.
Well, that I can believe, since Im sure no one wants to be your friend otherwise.
He was silent. She hoped shed injured his feelingsassuming he had feelings to injure in the first place.
Friendship is untenable for people in our position, he said, his tone smooth, almost nonchalant. Either we suffer for it, or our friends suffer for it. Remember that, Fairfax, before you become best chums with everyone around.
Early school, as the first class of the day was called, was taught by a master named Evanston, a frail, white-haired man who all but disappeared underneath his black masters robe. As it was the beginning of the Half, Evanston started on a new work, Tristia , by a Roman poet named Ovid. To Iolanthes relief, her Latin was more than sufficient for the coursework.
Early school was followed by chapel. After the religious service, which she found slow and mournful, the prince took her back to Mrs. Dawlishs house, where, to her surprise, a hearty breakfast was laid out. The boys, many of whom shed seen buying breakfast outside earlier, wolfed down a second one as if theyd been starving for three days.
After breakfast, they returned to classescalled divisionsuntil the midday meal back at Mrs. Dawlishs. Mrs. Hancock, who had not been there at breakfast, was now present. Again, it was she who said grace. This time she did not mention Fairfax by name, but Iolanthe still felt her sharp-eyed gaze.
She didnt know what made her do it. At the end of the meal, when the boys were filing out, she broke rank and approached Mrs. Hancock.
My parents asked me to tell you, maam, that Ill be less trouble this Half, she said.
If Mrs. Hancock was taken aback by Iolanthes maneuver, she did not show it. She only chuckled. Well, in that case, I hope you are listening to your parents.
Iolanthe grinned, even though her palms were damp. They are hoping so too. Good day, maam.
The prince waited for her at the door. She was surprised to see his expression of sullen impatienceit was unlike his controlled, reticent person. He
didnt speak to her as they left the dining room.
But when they were outside Mrs. Dawlishs house, he said softly, Well done.
She glanced at him. Was that why you looked as if youd like to hit me with something?
She would be that much more watchful of you if she believed our friendship to be genuine. His lips curled slightly, a halfhearted sneer. Much better that she sees me as an arrogant prick and you an opportunist.
Friendship is untenable for people in our position.
She never wanted to feel sympathy for him. But she did, that moment.
Titus was curious to see her reaction to their afternoon divisions.
They had Latin again, conducted by a tutor named Frampton, a man with a big beak of a nose and fleshy lips. One rather expected Frampton to speak wetly, but he enunciated with nothing less than oratorical perfection as he lectured on Ovids banishment from Rome and read from Tristia .
Fairfax seemed mesmerized by Framptons master-thespian voice. Then she bit her lower lip, and realized that she was not listening only to Framptons voice, but also to Ovids words of longing.
She too was now an Exile.
They were almost a quarter hour into the division before she saw Frampton for what he was. As he read, Frampton passed by her desk. She glanced up and seized in shock: the design on Framptons stickpin was a stylized whirlpool, the infamous Atlantean maelstrom. Immediately she bent her head and scribbled in her notebook, not looking at Frampton again until he had returned to the front of the classroom.
After dismissal, she all but shoved Titus into the cloister behind the quadrangle, her grip hard on his arm.
Why didnt you tell me?
He is obvious. You would have to be blind not to see.
Are there agents who dont wear the emblem?
What do you think?
She inhaled. How many?
I wish I knew. Then I would not need to suspect everyone.
She pushed away from him. Im going to walk back by myself.
Enjoy your stroll.
She turned to leave; then, as if shed remembered something, pivoted back to face him. What else are you keeping from me?
How much can you handle knowing?
Sometimes ignorance truly was bliss.
Her eyes narrowed, but she left without further questions.
Iolanthe didnt return to Mrs. Dawlishs directly, but walked northeast, along the road before the school gate. To the left of the road was a large green field; to the right a high brick wall twice as tall as she.
Hawkers lined this wall. An old woman in a much-patched dress tried to sell Iolanthe a dormouse. A sun-browned man waved a tray of glistening sausages. Other hawkers peddled pies, pastries, fruits, and everything else that could be consumed without plates or silverware. Around each hawker, junior boys congregated like ants on a picnic, some buying, the rest salivating.