Chapter 39 Summary, Analysis, and Key Themes

⚠️ Spoiler Warning: This guide contains detailed spoilers for the entire novel. Proceed only if you've finished reading or are comfortable knowing the plot.

Summary

The chapter opens in the office of Duncan, the picture editor, where Jean is reviewing young Tony's contact prints of Gretchen and Margaret. Tony has captured naturalistic shots of the pair laughing together on the couch at Luna Street, as well as a staged photograph of Margaret that mirrors the childhood portrait of Gretchen at the same age. Margaret played her part with enthusiasm, mimicking her mother's uplifted gaze and wistful expression. Tony then overreached, staging a Madonna-like pose for Gretchen with prayerful, downcast eyes and a halo-like glow. Jean rejects this image outright, telling Duncan that the paper's line is that the case is an unexplained mystery, not a miracle, and that she does not want the family to become an object of fascination for religious cranks. Duncan notes that if a national paper picks up the story, it will be out of her hands.

The front-page story is scheduled for the first Friday of December, a coup for Jean that gives her no pleasure. She is tempted to confide in Duncan but the moment passes, and she grows distant and professional again. They settle on the studio portraits for the front page and an informal shot for the inside pages. Jean asks for a copy of the picture of Margaret to keep, saying it is exactly how she always wants to think of her.

It has been over a week since Jean wrote to Howard, and the spirit of righteousness that carried her through posting the letter is diminishing daily. She has had no word from him and no way of knowing whether he contacted Gretchen. Having surrendered all claim to him, she accepts she may never hear from him again. Doing the right thing, she reflects, is nothing like the consolation she hoped for; without constant congratulation, virtue is a lonely business. She finds herself distracted at work, losing concentration for ten or fifteen minutes at a time, transported by memories of Howard's goodness. When sorrow threatens to tip into despair, she walks briskly to Willett's Wood, following the path they took together, and sheds restorative tears.

Her colleagues notice her unhappiness. Larry brings her a custard tart from the bakery in Petts Wood each morning, and even the fearsome Muriel offers to bring in a pamphlet from the School of Yoga. Jean tells herself that people are kind and that she is fortunate. The evenings are a trial; she goes to bed early but cannot sleep. She tries to remember what life was like before she met the Tilburys, six months earlier, when small pleasures—the first cigarette of the day, a glass of sherry before Sunday lunch, a newly published library book, the first hyacinths of spring—were encouragement enough. She wonders how many years it will be before the monster of awakened longing is subdued and she can return to placid acceptance of a limited life. The journey into love was effortless; the journey out is a long, labored climb.

One evening, when her mother is settled, Jean slips out and walks up to the church. She is not religious but considers herself culturally Christian. Choir practice is finishing, so she waits in the rectory garden until the singers have left, then lets herself into the cool darkness and sits in a back pew. She does not pray—she would not stoop to that just because she is needy—but sits contemplating the silence, letting tears flow unchecked. Mrs. Melsom, who stayed behind to sort sheet music, discovers her and offers sympathy. Jean is tempted to take the path of denial and hasty departure, but a memory nudges her: the downtrodden daughter from the hotel in Lymington who refused her hand of friendship, and how both were diminished that night. She accepts Mrs. Melsom's kindness, and the insight opens her eyes to the truth that when help is accepted, both parties are enriched.

Mrs. Melsom volunteers to come and sit with Jean's mother on Saturday afternoons, playing cards or doing crocheting together, and suggests other church members could do the same on subsequent Saturdays. For Jean's aching heart, she offers no remedy, only the time-honored methods of endurance, distraction, and work—methods Jean has used before, in the matter of Frank, and recalls without confidence. She knows the pain will not be unending, but neither will it subside smoothly; it will come in crashing waves, some of which may still knock her off her feet.

It is the first Tuesday in December, a few days before the Echo is to carry the story of the so-called Virgin Mother as its front-page feature. Jean is tidying her desk and filing correspondence when the sight of Gretchen's handwriting on that first brief note makes her feel suddenly queasy. She whispers to Larry that she is going for a walk and heads out into the cold late-afternoon air, following the path she took with Howard. In the gray distance, a figure emerges from the mist. She recognizes his walk before his silhouette, and she stops, fixed to the spot, until he raises a hand in greeting.

Howard has closed his shop to find her. He tells her he has been miserable, that her letter finished him off. He has thought and thought about what she said, tried to see how it could work, but he cannot give her up. Jean feels joy flowing through her veins, unfreezing her blood. She had tried to be brave and do the good and decent thing, but she could not do it for both of them. They clutch each other almost fearfully, as though unseen hands would pry them apart.

Howard explains that he spoke to Gretchen at length. He feels for her, but it is nonsense to think they can patch things up as if a marriage were a torn pair of trousers. He could not touch her and she could not touch him. Even if there were a hundred Margarets, it would never work. He tells Jean that if Gretchen had not left, he would have kept his feelings for her in a sealed box, and she would have done the same. But Gretchen's departure released him, and now that he has experienced real love and passion with Jean, he cannot go back. He explains that sex is not everything, but it is not nothing either; it is part of married love, perhaps the biggest part, and the idea that Gretchen could bury her feelings of revulsion, and that he could make love to her again knowing how she really feels, is complete madness.

Howard has not told Gretchen about Jean and himself, because he did not know whether there was an 'us.' He has agonized over Margaret, but the damage has already been done. If Gretchen came back and they all lived together again, and then it fell apart a few months later—as it surely would—it would be far worse. Jean asks how they will ever manage to be together. Howard answers: with patience and determination. Gretchen will have to be told, and Margaret, and Jean's mother. It will be a bumpy ride. Jean quails at the thought of the turbulence ahead, but Howard has resolution enough for both of them. There can be no secrets—except for that one unsayable thing, which she will keep to herself forever. Let them believe in innocence and miracles and angel voices; it will be her gift to them all.

Jean cannot leave her mother, and Howard cannot leave Margaret, so for the time being they may not be able to be together much. But they can still love each other, and if he can only see her once a week, he would rather that than not at all. Jean suggests introducing Howard to her mother, reasoning that his presence will disarm her, since she has always taken more notice of men. Howard agrees, and they settle on dinner the next evening, when Margaret will be at the panto with Lizzie. Jean knows that recriminations will follow once her mother is alone with her, but the knowledge that Howard is out there, emphatically and eternally on her side, gives her strength. Once her mother realizes she holds no cards, Jean can be generous. They walk back through the woods arm in arm as dusk falls, the trees in their dark suits lining the path on either side.

Key Events

• Jean and Duncan review Tony's photographs; the Madonna-style shot is rejected as too religious, and studio portraits are chosen for the front page with an informal shot inside.

• Jean keeps a copy of Margaret's picture, saying it is exactly how she always wants to think of her.

• Over a week after writing to Howard, Jean is deeply unhappy, distracted at work, and walks in Willett's Wood to cry.

• Colleagues show unexpected kindness: Larry brings custard tarts, Muriel offers a yoga pamphlet.

• Jean reflects on the small pleasures that once sustained her and wonders how long before the monster of awakened longing is subdued.

• Jean visits the church; Mrs. Melsom finds her and offers sympathy, then volunteers to sit with Jean's mother on Saturdays.

• On the first Tuesday in December, Jean files correspondence, feels queasy at Gretchen's note, and goes for a walk.

• Howard appears in the woods; they reconcile, agreeing to be together despite the obstacles.

• Howard explains why he cannot return to Gretchen and why the marriage cannot be patched up.

• They agree Howard will come to dinner the next evening to meet Jean's mother.

Character Development

Jean undergoes a significant shift in this chapter. Having attempted the path of self-sacrifice by writing to Howard, she discovers that virtue is a lonely business and that doing the right thing offers little consolation. Her experience at the church, where she accepts Mrs. Melsom's sympathy, marks a turning point: she recalls the downtrodden daughter in Lymington who refused her hand of friendship, and realizes that accepting help enriches both parties. This lesson in humility prepares her for the reconciliation with Howard, where she abandons her attempt at noble self-denial and embraces the messy, difficult reality of love. She also acknowledges the unsayable secret she will keep forever, choosing to let others believe in innocence and miracles as her gift to them.

Howard demonstrates his commitment and clarity. He refuses to accept Jean's sacrifice, arguing that he cannot return to a loveless marriage now that he has experienced real passion. His reasoning is practical and honest: he cannot touch Gretchen, and she cannot touch him, and the idea of patching things up as if a marriage were a torn pair of trousers is nonsense. He shows patience and determination, proposing that they love each other even if they can only meet once a week, and he agrees to meet Jean's mother, understanding that his presence may disarm her.

Mrs. Melsom emerges as a source of practical kindness. She offers sympathy without prying into details, and her offer to sit with Jean's mother on Saturdays is a concrete act of community support that gives Jean a measure of freedom.

Jean's colleagues—Larry, Muriel, and others—show unexpected sensitivity, diverting unpopular work away from her and offering small comforts, which Jean acknowledges with gratitude.

Themes, Symbols, or Motifs

Unexplained mystery vs miracle: Jean's rejection of the Madonna-style photograph reinforces the paper's editorial line that the case is an unexplained mystery, not a miracle. Her queasiness at any suggestion of divine intervention reflects her discomfort with the religious framing of Gretchen's story.

The loneliness of virtue: Jean's reflection that doing the right thing is nothing like the consolation she hoped for, and that without constant congratulation virtue is a lonely business, captures the emotional cost of her attempted self-sacrifice.

Small pleasures as consolation: Jean's catalogue of small pleasures—the first cigarette of the day, a glass of sherry before Sunday lunch, a newly published library book, the first hyacinths of spring—represents the limited life she once found sufficient, and which she now fears she may never return to.

The sealed box of feelings: Howard's image of keeping his feelings for Jean in a sealed box, and Jean doing the same, suggests the suppression of desire that was possible before Gretchen's departure released them both.

The unsayable secret: Jean's decision to keep the truth about Margaret's conception to herself forever, letting others believe in innocence and miracles, is a motif of protective deception that recurs throughout the novel.

Grief as crashing waves: Jean's understanding that pain will not subside smoothly or incrementally but in a series of crashing waves, some of which may still knock her off her feet, is a vivid metaphor for the unpredictable nature of grief and longing.

Community kindness and accepting help: The chapter emphasizes that accepting help enriches both parties, a lesson Jean learns through her encounter with Mrs. Melsom and her colleagues' small acts of kindness.

Why This Chapter Matters

This chapter is pivotal in the novel's emotional arc. It marks the end of Jean's attempt at self-sacrifice and the beginning of her commitment to Howard, despite the formidable obstacles of Gretchen, Margaret, and Jean's mother. The reconciliation in Willett's Wood is the emotional climax of their relationship, and Howard's argument that he cannot return to a loveless marriage crystallizes the novel's central tension between duty and desire. The chapter also deepens Jean's character through her acceptance of help from Mrs. Melsom and her colleagues, showing her growth from proud self-sufficiency to a more humble openness. The decision to introduce Howard to her mother sets up the challenges ahead, and Jean's resolve—bolstered by the knowledge that Howard is on her side—signals a new phase in her life. The chapter also reinforces the novel's themes of mystery, secrecy, and the cost of love, as Jean chooses to keep her unsayable secret forever.

Study Questions and Answers

1. Why does Jean reject the Madonna-style photograph of Gretchen, and what does this reveal about her approach to the story?

Jean rejects the photograph because she finds any suggestion of divine intervention queasy, and she tells Duncan that the paper's line is that the case is an unexplained mystery, not a miracle. She also does not want the family to become an object of fascination for religious cranks. This reveals her protective instinct toward the Tilburys and her desire to keep the story grounded in human terms rather than sensational religious framing.

2. How does Jean's experience of doing 'the right thing' challenge the idea that virtue is its own reward?

Jean reflects that having done the right thing is nothing like the consolation she hoped for, and that without constant congratulation, virtue is a lonely business. Her unhappiness, distraction, and tears in Willett's Wood demonstrate that moral righteousness does not shield her from emotional pain. This challenges the notion that virtuous action is inherently rewarding, suggesting instead that self-sacrifice can be deeply costly.

3. What does Howard's argument about the 'sealed box' reveal about his understanding of marriage and love?

Howard explains that if Gretchen had not left, he would have kept his feelings for Jean in a sealed box, and she would have done the same. But Gretchen's departure released him, and now that he has experienced real love and passion with Jean, he cannot go back. This reveals his belief that marriage without passion is a form of suppression, and that once real love is experienced, returning to a loveless arrangement is impossible. It also shows his honesty about the role of physical intimacy in married love, which he describes as perhaps the biggest part.

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