Johnny's yellow-faced watch, that she was going to get it in some way
that was justifiable. Only it was not so easy to believe that now she
knew more about it and the Van Heigens. But she must have it, that was
the argument she fell back on, the necessity was so great that she was
justified (the Polkingtons had always found necessity a justification
for doing things that could be anyhow made to square with their
position).

She wished she had not been for the excursion to-day, that she lived
less really in their simple, sincere life. She wished from her heart
that the Van Heigens had been different sort of people--almost any other
sort, then she would not have had these tiresome feelings--Johnny and
Johnny's watch, Joost Van Heigen--there was something about them all
that was hatefully embarrassing. No self-respecting thief robbed a
child; even the most apathetic conscience revolted at such an idea. No
gentleman worthy of the name attacked an unarmed man, the preparedness
of the parties made all the difference between murder and fair fight. Of
course, in the abstract, stealing was stealing under all conditions, and
killing killing, and both open to condemnation; but in the concrete, in
fact, the equality of the two persons made all the difference, at least
to honour.

Julia moved uneasily and looked, without seeing, across the dark
garden. The monotonous sound of voices floated out indistinctly; the
old pair in the sitting-room were talking in the lamplight, Mevrouw
going over once again the little incidents of the day. Joost was in
the drawing-room at the other end of the house; he had been playing
some of his favourite composer; he had stopped now, and was doubtless
sorting his music and putting it away, each piece four-square and
absolutely neat. Day by day, and year by year, they lived this quiet