heart a desire to travel, to go abroad. I believe it was in the experience and understanding of other cultures that Dr. Blanche garnered the wisdom that stood him in good stead, both in his work and as a much-respected friend and mentor to those whose paths he crossed. Of course, he came from a family familiar with travel, used to expeditions overseas. But I now have the means to live up to his example, so I have this desire to leave.”
“I see. And on the other hand?”
“My business. My employees. My father. And my . . . well, the man who loves me, who is himself making plans to travel to Canada. For an indefinite stay.”
Dame Constance nodded and was silent. Maisie knew it would not be for long. She’s just lining up the ducks to shoot them down, like a marksman at the fair.
“What are you seeking?”
“Knowledge. Understanding. To broaden my mind. I . . . I think I am somewhat narrow-minded, at times.”
“Hmmm, I wouldn’t doubt it, but we all suffer from tunnel vision on occasion, Maisie, even I.” Dame Constance paused. Again there was the catch at the corner of her mouth. “And you think journeying abroad will give you this knowledge you crave?”
“I think it will contribute to my understanding of the world, of people.”
“More so than, say, the old lady who has lived in the same house her entire life, who has borne children both alive and dead? Who tends her soil; who sees the sun shine and the rain fall over the land, winter, spring, summer, and autumn? What might you say to the idea that we all have a capacity for wisdom, just as a jug has room for a finite amount of water—pouring more water in the jug doesn’t increase that capacity.”
“I think there’s room for improvement?”
“Improvement?”
Wrong word, thought Maisie. “I believe I have the capacity to develop a greater understanding of people, and therefore compassion.”
“And you think people want your compassion? Your understanding?”
“I think it helps. I think society could do with more of both.”
“Then why not take your journey, your Grand Tour, to the north of England, or to Wales, to places where there is want, where there is a need for compassion and—dare I say it—some nonpatronizing, constructive help from someone who knows what it is to be poor? You have much to offer here, Maisie.”
“I take your point, truly I do—but I think going abroad is the right thing to do.”
“Then why ask me?”
“To align my thoughts on the matter.”
“I see.” Dame Constance paused. “And what of those you say you cannot leave—your employees? Your father? The man who loves you? Maisie, I know you well enough to know that you could find new positions for your employees, if you wish. Your father, by your own account, is a fiercely independent man—though I could understand a certain reticence to leave, given his age. And your young man? Well, I suspect he’s not so young, is he? I imagine he would want you to go with him, as his wife.”
Maisie nodded. “Yes, he has made that known.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“I want to take my own journey first.”
“Your pilgrimage.”
“My pilgrimage?”
“Yes, Maisie. Your pilgrimage. Where do you intend to go?”
“In reading Maurice’s journals, it seems he spent much time in the Indian subcontinent. I thought I might travel there.”
“Do you know anyone there? Have you any associations?”
“I am sure there are people who knew Maurice, who would offer me advice.”
“ ‘Pilgrimage to the place of the wise is to find escape from the flame of separateness.’ ”
“I beg your pardon,” said Maisie.
“It’s something written by the Persian poet Jal¯al ad-D¯ın Muh. ammad R¯um¯ı, from a more recent translation, though most of his work remains in his original language.”
“But . . .”
“I believe the words you find most startling are ‘the flame of separateness.’ ”
Maisie nodded.
“Then go. Go to find out who you are—Know Thyself, as written at the entrance to Delphi. Know thyself, Maisie Dobbs, for such knowledge is freedom. Extinguish the flame of doubt that has burned in you for so long, and which—I suspect—stands between you and a deeper connection to someone with whom you might spend the rest of your life.”
“There are more recent reasons for that separateness, Dame Constance. Matters of a confidential nature.”
“You would not have come had you not felt trust.”
“James—the man with whom I have been, to all intents and purposes, walking out with for some months now . . .” Maisie