Free The Gale of the World by Henry Williamson Page A

here several letters which he wrote to my client’s brother, a Mr. Timothy Copleston.”
    “He, Mr. Strangeways?”
    “The husband under discussion, m’lord.”
    “I am not aware of any discussion, Mr. Strangeways.”
    “Yes, m’lud. I mean no, m’lud.”
    “Make up your mind, Mr. Strangeways.”
    “Thank you, m’lud. Well, as I was saying, or attempting to say, with the greatest respect, m’lud.”
    “That is better, Mr. Strangeways.”
    “Yes, m’lud. I have here several letters which my client’s husband wrote to his wife’s brother, who reveals a morbid frame of mind—or rather, the letters reveal the morbid frame of mind, in that they virtually disclose—”
    “What is the distinction between virtually disclosing a morbid frame of mind and revealing a morbid frame of mind, Mr. Strangeways?”
    “In this case, m’lud, it is my intention to prove cruelty arising from a morbid condition of mind, in that the writer of the letters, my client’s husband, clearly reveals sympathy with the fate of one of our late enemies of the first rank, Hitler’s Deputy, Rudolf Hess, and has declared in the letter that Hess flew to England on an angelic impulse.”
    A British-born Jew, the judge looked severe. “Mr. Strangeways, you have introduced, indeed you have strayed from your argument into political propaganda which does the plaintiffs case no real service. I have heard what you have had to say, and although this case comes before me in the nature of an uncontested case I am bound to say that your argument for alienation by cruelty has not been established.”
    The judge bowed to Lucy. “In the circumstances, Mrs. Maddison, I must dismiss your plea because, from what I have heard, there is no case. I understand that your husband has suitably provided for your support and that of your children, by this means showing that he is not without regard for your joint welfare. I will go further, and say that he has shown concern for your welfare. It has been a difficult war, the world is strewn with the wreckage of human hopes and ambitions, and before I leave you, as I must immediately, I must remark that I have perceived a feeling of loyalty remaining in you for your husband’s well-being . May you come together again as a family, to the easement and happiness of yourselves and particularly of your children.”
    *
    Phillip saw Lucy leaving chambers, and followed at what Tim would have described as a discreet distance. Phillip had written to Lucy’s brother, giving him permission to use his letters in any way he, Tim, thought fit; thus to allow himself not to feel critical of Tim for what, among some men, would have been considered to be a breach of confidence. After all, Tim’s Pa had been an old man when Tim was born, and Tim was only twelve when his mother had died, leaving Tim and Pa alone in Down Close. Lucy was seventeen, and had left school at once to go home and look after ‘the two poors’, as she thought of them when she saw them, standing side by side, looking entirely lost, by the garden gate, watching for her. It was in 1917, during the war in which many of her cousins had been killed. Seven years later she hadmet Phillip, and his little motherless son, also ‘two poors’, and from a deep compassionate nature decided to look after them—if he wanted her, as he seemed, at first, to do.
    Lucy walked slower, but Phillip did not catch up with her. Doubt suddenly appalled her. Supposing he had wanted, after all, to be free of her? Perhaps he could divorce her for cruelty, she had, in a way, caused him to suffer by not trying harder to understand the things he wanted to talk about with her, Wagner and other composers and authors like Dostoieffsky and all those war books. That was mental cruelty, but not allowed in divorce. Oh dear, she had let him down again. What would he think of her?
    She stopped, and moved to one side to be out of the way of people hurrying past. She saw he had stopped, too. So,