organ-grinders.
No
difficulty
about
that
.
And
you
could
forbid
it-make
it
against
the
etiquette
.
No
life
is
decent
without
etiquette
...
.
And
people
obey
etiquette
sooner
than
laws
...
"
"
H
'm
,
"
I
said
,
and
was
struck
by
an
idea
that
is
remote
in
the
world
of
a
young
man
.
"
How
about
children
?
"
I
asked
;
"
in
the
City
?
Girls
are
all
very
well
.
But
boys
,
for
example-grow
up
.
"
"
Ah
!
"
said
Ewart
.
"
Yes
.
I
forgot
.
They
must
n't
grow
up
inside
...
.
They
'd
turn
out
the
boys
when
they
were
seven
.
The
father
must
come
with
a
little
pony
and
a
little
gun
and
manly
wear
,
and
take
the
boy
away
.
Then
one
could
come
afterwards
to
one
's
mother
's
balcony
...
.
It
must
be
fine
to
have
a
mother
.
The
father
and
the
son
...
"
"
This
is
all
very
pretty
in
its
way
,
"
I
said
at
last
,
"
but
it
's
a
dream
.
Let
's
come
back
to
reality
.
What
I
want
to
know
is
,
what
are
you
going
to
do
in
Brompton
,
let
us
say
,
or
Walham
Green
NOW
?
"
"
Oh
!
damn
it
!
"
he
remarked
,
"
Walham
Green
!
What
a
chap
you
are
,
Ponderevo
!
"
and
he
made
an
abrupt
end
to
his
discourse
.
He
would
n't
even
reply
to
my
tentatives
for
a
time
.
"
While
I
was
talking
just
now
,
"
he
remarked
presently
,
"
I
had
a
quite
different
idea
.
"
"
What
?
"
"
For
a
masterpiece
.
A
series
.
Like
the
busts
of
the
Caesars
.
Only
not
heads
,
you
know
.
We
do
n't
see
the
people
who
do
things
to
us
nowadays
...
"
"
How
will
you
do
it
,
then
?
"
"
Hands-a
series
of
hands
!
The
hands
of
the
Twentieth
Century
.
I
'll
do
it
.
Some
day
some
one
will
discover
it-go
there-see
what
I
have
done
,
and
what
is
meant
by
it
.
"
"
See
it
where
?
"
"
On
the
tombs
.
Why
not
?
The
Unknown
Master
of
the
Highgate
Slope
!
All
the
little
,
soft
feminine
hands
,
the
nervous
ugly
males
,
the
hands
of
the
flops
,
and
the
hands
of
the
snatchers
!
And
Grundy
's
loose
,
lean
,
knuckly
affair-Grundy
the
terror
!
-the
little
wrinkles
and
the
thumb
!
Only
it
ought
to
hold
all
the
others
together-in
a
slightly
disturbing
squeeze
...
.Like
Rodin
's
great
Hand-you
know
the
thing
!
"
I
forget
how
many
days
intervened
between
that
last
breaking
off
of
our
engagement
and
Marion
's
surrender
.
But
I
recall
now
the
sharpness
of
my
emotion
,
the
concentrated
spirit
of
tears
and
laughter
in
my
throat
as
I
read
the
words
of
her
unexpected
letter-
"
I
have
thought
over
everything
,
and
I
was
selfish
...
.
"
I
rushed
off
to
Walham
Green
that
evening
to
give
back
all
she
had
given
me
,
to
beat
her
altogether
at
giving
.
She
was
extraordinarily
gentle
and
generous
that
time
,
I
remember
,
and
when
at
last
I
left
her
,
she
kissed
me
very
sweetly
.
So
we
were
married
.
We
were
married
with
all
the
customary
incongruity
.
I
gave-perhaps
after
a
while
not
altogether
ungrudgingly-and
what
I
gave
,
Marion
took
,
with
a
manifest
satisfaction
.
After
all
,
I
was
being
sensible
.
So
that
we
had
three
livery
carriages
to
the
church
(
one
of
the
pairs
of
horses
matched
)
and
coachmen-with
improvised
flavour
and
very
shabby
silk
hats-bearing
white
favours
on
their
whips
,
and
my
uncle
intervened
with
splendour
and
insisted
upon
having
a
wedding
breakfast
sent
in
from
a
caterer
's
in
Hammersmith
.
The
table
had
a
great
display
of
chrysanthemums
,
and
there
was
orange
blossom
in
the
significant
place
and
a
wonderful
cake
.
We
also
circulated
upwards
of
a
score
of
wedges
of
that
accompanied
by
silver-printed
cards
in
which
Marion
's
name
of
Ramboat
was
stricken
out
by
an
arrow
in
favour
of
Ponderevo
.
We
had
a
little
rally
of
Marion
's
relations
,
and
several
friends
and
friends
'
friends
from
Smithie
's
appeared
in
the
church
and
drifted
vestry-ward
.
I
produced
my
aunt
and
uncle
a
select
group
of
two
.
The
effect
in
that
shabby
little
house
was
one
of
exhilarating
congestion
.
The
side-board
,
in
which
lived
the
table-cloth
and
the
"
Apartments
"
card
,
was
used
for
a
display
of
the
presents
,
eked
out
by
the
unused
balance
of
the
silver-printed
cards
.
Marion
wore
the
white
raiment
of
a
bride
,
white
silk
and
satin
,
that
did
not
suit
her
,
that
made
her
seem
large
and
strange
to
me
;
she
obtruded
bows
and
unfamiliar
contours
.
She
went
through
all
this
strange
ritual
of
an
English
wedding
with
a
sacramental
gravity
that
I
was
altogether
too
young
and
egotistical
to
comprehend
.
It
was
all
extraordinarily
central
and
important
to
her
;
it
was
no
more
than
an
offensive
,
complicated
,
and
disconcerting
intrusion
of
a
world
I
was
already
beginning
to
criticise
very
bitterly
,
to
me
.
What
was
all
this
fuss
for
?
The
mere
indecent
advertisement
that
I
had
been
passionately
in
love
with
Marion
!
I
think
,
however
,
that
Marion
was
only
very
remotely
aware
of
my
smouldering
exasperation
at
having
in
the
end
behaved
"
nicely
.
"
I
had
played-up
to
the
extent
of
dressing
my
part
;
I
had
an
admirably
cut
frock-coat
,
a
new
silk
hat
,
trousers
as
light
as
I
could
endure
them-lighter
,
in
fact-a
white
waistcoat
,
night
tie
,
light
gloves
.
Marion
,
seeing
me
despondent
had
the
unusual
enterprise
to
whisper
to
me
that
I
looked
lovely
;
I
knew
too
well
I
did
n't
look
myself
.
I
looked
like
a
special
coloured
supplement
to
Men
's
Wear
,
or
The
Tailor
and
Cutter
,
Full
Dress
For
Ceremonial
Occasions
.
I
had
even
the
disconcerting
sensations
of
an
unfamiliar
collar
.
I
felt
lost-in
a
strange
body
,
and
when
I
glanced
down
myself
for
reassurance
,
the
straight
white
abdomen
,
the
alien
legs
confirmed
that
impression
.
My
uncle
was
my
best
man
,
and
looked
like
a
banker-a
little
banker-in
flower
.
He
wore
a
white
rose
in
his
buttonhole
.
He
was
n't
,
I
think
,
particularly
talkative
.
At
least
I
recall
very
little
from
him
.
"
George
"
he
said
once
or
twice
,
"
this
is
a
great
occasion
for
you-a
very
great
occasion
.
"
He
spoke
a
little
doubtfully
.
You
see
I
had
told
him
nothing
about
Marion
until
about
a
week
before
the
wedding
;
both
he
and
my
aunt
had
been
taken
altogether
by
surprise
.
They
could
n't
,
as
people
say
,
"
make
it
out
.
"
My
aunt
was
intensely
interested
,
much
more
than
my
uncle
;
it
was
then
,
I
think
,
for
the
first
time
that
I
really
saw
that
she
cared
for
me
.
She
got
me
alone
,
I
remember
,
after
I
had
made
my
announcement
.
"
Now
,
George
,
"
she
said
,
"
tell
me
everything
about
her
.
Why
did
n't
you
tell-ME
at
least-before
?
"
I
was
surprised
to
find
how
difficult
it
was
to
tell
her
about
Marion
.
I
perplexed
her
.
"
Then
is
she
beautiful
?
"
she
asked
at
last
.
"
I
do
n't
know
what
you
'll
think
of
her
,
"
I
parried
.
"
I
think-
"
"
Yes
?
"
"
I
think
she
might
be
the
most
beautiful
person
in
the
world
.
"
"
And
is
n't
she
?
To
you
?
"
"
Of
course
,
"
I
said
,
nodding
my
head
.
"
Yes
.
She
IS
...
"
And
while
I
do
n't
remember
anything
my
uncle
said
or
did
at
the
wedding
,
I
do
remember
very
distinctly
certain
little
things
,
scrutiny
,
solicitude
,
a
curious
rare
flash
of
intimacy
in
my
aunt
's
eyes
.
It
dawned
on
me
that
I
was
n't
hiding
anything
from
her
at
all
.
She
was
dressed
very
smartly
,
wearing
a
big-plumed
hat
that
made
her
neck
seem
longer
and
slenderer
than
ever
,
and
when
she
walked
up
the
aisle
with
that
rolling
stride
of
hers
and
her
eye
all
on
Marion
,
perplexed
into
self-forgetfulness
,
it
was
n't
somehow
funny
.
She
was
,
I
do
believe
,
giving
my
marriage
more
thought
than
I
had
done
,
she
was
concerned
beyond
measure
at
my
black
rage
and
Marion
's
blindness
,
she
was
looking
with
eyes
that
knew
what
loving
is-for
love
.
In
the
vestry
she
turned
away
as
we
signed
,
and
I
verily
believe
she
was
crying
,
though
to
this
day
I
ca
n't
say
why
she
should
have
cried
,
and
she
was
near
crying
too
when
she
squeezed
my
hand
at
parting-and
she
never
said
a
word
or
looked
at
me
,
but
just
squeezed
my
hand
...
.
If
I
had
not
been
so
grim
in
spirit
,
I
think
I
should
have
found
much
of
my
wedding
amusing
.
I
remember
a
lot
of
ridiculous
detail
that
still
declines
to
be
funny
in
my
memory
.
The
officiating
clergyman
had
a
cold
,
and
turned
his
"
n
's
"
to
"
d
's
,
"
and
he
made
the
most
mechanical
compliment
conceivable
about
the
bride
's
age
when
the
register
was
signed
.
Every
bride
he
had
ever
married
had
had
it
,
one
knew
.
And
two
middle-aged
spinsters
,
cousins
of
Marion
's
and
dressmakers
at
Barking
,
stand
out
.
They
wore
marvellously
bright
and
gay
blouses
and
dim
old
skirts
,
and
had
an
immense
respect
for
Mr.
Ramboat
.
They
threw
rice
;
they
brought
a
whole
bag
with
them
and
gave
handfuls
away
to
unknown
little
boys
at
the
church
door
and
so
created
a
Lilliputian
riot
;
and
one
had
meant
to
throw
a
slipper
.
It
was
a
very
warm
old
silk
slipper
,
I
know
,
because
she
dropped
it
out
of
a
pocket
in
the
aisle-there
was
a
sort
of
jumble
in
the
aisle-and
I
picked
it
up
for
her
.
I
do
n't
think
she
actually
threw
it
,
for
as
we
drove
away
from
the
church
I
saw
her
in
a
dreadful
,
and
,
it
seemed
to
me
,
hopeless
,
struggle
with
her
pocket
;
and
afterwards
my
eye
caught
the
missile
of
good
fortune
lying
,
it
or
its
fellow
,
most
obviously
mislaid
,
behind
the
umbrella-stand
in
the
hall
...
.
The
whole
business
was
much
more
absurd
,
more
incoherent
,
more
human
than
I
had
anticipated
,
but
I
was
far
too
young
and
serious
to
let
the
latter
quality
atone
for
its
shortcomings
.
I
am
so
remote
from
this
phase
of
my
youth
that
I
can
look
back
at
it
all
as
dispassionately
as
one
looks
at
a
picture-at
some
wonderful
,
perfect
sort
of
picture
that
is
inexhaustible
;
but
at
the
time
these
things
filled
me
with
unspeakable
resentment
.
Now
I
go
round
it
all
,
look
into
its
details
,
generalise
about
its
aspects
.
I
'm
interested
,
for
example
,
to
square
it
with
my
Bladesover
theory
of
the
British
social
scheme
.
Under
stress
of
tradition
we
were
all
of
us
trying
in
the
fermenting
chaos
of
London
to
carry
out
the
marriage
ceremonies
of
a
Bladesover
tenant
or
one
of
the
chubby
middling
sort
of
people
in
some
dependent
country
town
.
There
a
marriage
is
a
public
function
with
a
public
significance
.
There
the
church
is
to
a
large
extent
the
gathering-place
of
the
community
,
and
your
going
to
be
married
a
thing
of
importance
to
every
one
you
pass
on
the
road
.
It
is
a
change
of
status
that
quite
legitimately
interests
the
whole
neighbourhood
.
But
in
London
there
are
no
neighbours
,
nobody
knows
,
nobody
cares
.
An
absolute
stranger
in
an
office
took
my
notice
,
and
our
banns
were
proclaimed
to
ears
that
had
never
previously
heard
our
names
.
The
clergyman
,
even
,
who
married
us
had
never
seen
us
before
,
and
did
n't
in
any
degree
intimate
that
he
wanted
to
see
us
again
.
Neighbours
in
London
!
The
Ramboats
did
not
know
the
names
of
the
people
on
either
side
of
them
.
As
I
waited
for
Marion
before
we
started
off
upon
our
honeymoon
flight
,
Mr.
Ramboat
,
I
remember
,
came
and
stood
beside
me
and
stared
out
of
the
window
.
"
There
was
a
funeral
over
there
yesterday
,
"
he
said
,
by
way
of
making
conversation
,
and
moved
his
head
at
the
house
opposite
.
"
Quite
a
smart
affair
it
was
with
a
glass
'
earse
...
.
"
And
our
little
procession
of
three
carriages
with
white-favour-adorned
horses
and
drivers
,
went
through
all
the
huge
,
noisy
,
indifferent
traffic
like
a
lost
china
image
in
the
coal-chute
of
an
ironclad
.
Nobody
made
way
for
us
,
nobody
cared
for
us
;
the
driver
of
an
omnibus
jeered
;
for
a
long
time
we
crawled
behind
an
unamiable
dust-cart
.
The
irrelevant
clatter
and
tumult
gave
a
queer
flavour
of
indecency
to
this
public
coming
together
of
lovers
.
We
seemed
to
have
obtruded
ourselves
shamelessly
.
The
crowd
that
gathered
outside
the
church
would
have
gathered
in
the
same
spirit
and
with
greater
alacrity
for
a
street
accident
...
.
At
Charing
Cross-we
were
going
to
Hastings-the
experienced
eye
of
the
guard
detected
the
significance
of
our
unusual
costume
and
he
secured
us
a
compartment
.
"
Well
,
"
said
I
,
as
the
train
moved
out
of
the
station
,
"
That
's
all
over
!
"
And
I
turned
to
Marion-a
little
unfamiliar
still
,
in
her
unfamiliar
clothes-and
smiled
.
She
regarded
me
gravely
,
timidly
.
"
You
're
not
cross
?
"
she
asked
.
"
Cross
!
Why
?
"
"
At
having
it
all
proper
.
"
"
My
dear
Marion
!
"
said
I
,
and
by
way
of
answer
took
and
kissed
her
white-gloved
,
leather-scented
hand
...
.
I
do
n't
remember
much
else
about
the
journey
,
an
hour
or
so
it
was
of
undistinguished
time-for
we
were
both
confused
and
a
little
fatigued
and
Marion
had
a
slight
headache
and
did
not
want
caresses
.
I
fell
into
a
reverie
about
my
aunt
,
and
realised
as
if
it
were
a
new
discovery
,
that
I
cared
for
her
very
greatly
.
I
was
acutely
sorry
I
had
not
told
her
earlier
of
my
marriage
.
But
you
will
not
want
to
hear
the
history
of
my
honeymoon
.
I
have
told
all
that
was
needed
to
serve
my
present
purpose
.
Thus
and
thus
it
was
the
Will
in
things
had
its
way
with
me
.
Driven
by
forces
I
did
not
understand
,
diverted
altogether
from
the
science
,
the
curiosities
and
work
to
which
I
had
once
given
myself
,
I
fought
my
way
through
a
tangle
of
traditions
,
customs
,
obstacles
and
absurdities
,
enraged
myself
,
limited
myself
,
gave
myself
to
occupations
I
saw
with
the
clearest
vision
were
dishonourable
and
vain
,
and
at
last
achieved
the
end
of
purblind
Nature
,
the
relentless
immediacy
of
her
desire
,
and
held
,
far
short
of
happiness
,
Marion
weeping
and
reluctant
in
my
arms
.
Who
can
tell
the
story
of
the
slow
estrangement
of
two
married
people
,
the
weakening
of
first
this
bond
and
then
that
of
that
complex
contact
?
Least
of
all
can
one
of
the
two
participants
.
Even
now
,
with
an
interval
of
fifteen
years
to
clear
it
up
for
me
,
I
still
find
a
mass
of
impressions
of
Marion
as
confused
,
as
discordant
,
as
unsystematic
and
self-contradictory
as
life
.
I
think
of
this
thing
and
love
her
,
of
that
and
hate
her-of
a
hundred
aspects
in
which
I
can
now
see
her
with
an
unimpassioned
sympathy
.
As
I
sit
here
trying
to
render
some
vision
of
this
infinitely
confused
process
,
I
recall
moments
of
hard
and
fierce
estrangement
,
moments
of
clouded
intimacy
,
the
passage
of
transition
all
forgotten
.
We
talked
a
little
language
together
whence
were
"
friends
,
"
and
I
was
"
Mutney
"
and
she
was
"
Ming
,
"
and
we
kept
up
such
an
outward
show
that
till
the
very
end
Smithie
thought
our
household
the
most
amiable
in
the
world
.
I
cannot
tell
to
the
full
how
Marion
thwarted
me
and
failed
in
that
life
of
intimate
emotions
which
is
the
kernel
of
love
.
That
life
of
intimate
emotions
is
made
up
of
little
things
.
A
beautiful
face
differs
from
an
ugly
one
by
a
difference
of
surfaces
and
proportions
that
are
sometimes
almost
infinitesimally
small
.
I
find
myself
setting
down
little
things
and
little
things
;
none
of
them
do
more
than
demonstrate
those
essential
temperamental
discords
I
have
already
sought
to
make
clear
.
Some
readers
will
understand-to
others
I
shall
seem
no
more
than
an
unfeeling
brute
who
could
n't
make
allowances
...
.
It
's
easy
to
make
allowances
now
;
but
to
be
young
and
ardent
and
to
make
allowances
,
to
see
one
's
married
life
open
before
one
,
the
life
that
seemed
in
its
dawn
a
glory
,
a
garden
of
roses
,
a
place
of
deep
sweet
mysteries
and
heart
throbs
and
wonderful
silences
,
and
to
see
it
a
vista
of
tolerations
and
baby-talk
;
a
compromise
,
the
least
effectual
thing
in
all
one
's
life
.
Every
love
romance
I
read
seemed
to
mock
our
dull
intercourse
,
every
poem
,
every
beautiful
picture
reflected
upon
the
uneventful
succession
of
grey
hours
we
had
together
.
I
think
our
real
difference
was
one
of
aesthetic
sensibility
.
I
do
still
recall
as
the
worst
and
most
disastrous
aspect
of
all
that
time
,
her
absolute
disregard
of
her
own
beauty
.
It
's
the
pettiest
thing
to
record
,
I
know
,
but
she
could
wear
curl-papers
in
my
presence
.
It
was
her
idea
,
too
,
to
"
wear
out
"
her
old
clothes
and
her
failures
at
home
when
"
no
one
was
likely
to
see
her
"
-
"
no
one
"
being
myself
.
She
allowed
me
to
accumulate
a
store
of
ungracious
and
slovenly
memories
...
.
All
our
conceptions
of
life
differed
.
I
remember
how
we
differed
about
furniture
.
We
spent
three
or
four
days
in
Tottenham
Court
Road
,
and
she
chose
the
things
she
fancied
with
an
inexorable
resolution
,
-sweeping
aside
my
suggestions
with-
"
Oh
,
YOU
want
such
queer
things
.
"
She
pursued
some
limited
,
clearly
seen
and
experienced
ideal-that
excluded
all
other
possibilities
.
Over
every
mantel
was
a
mirror
that
was
draped
,
our
sideboard
was
wonderfully
good
and
splendid
with
beveled
glass
,
we
had
lamps
on
long
metal
stalks
and
cozy
corners
and
plants
in
grog-tubs
.
Smithie
approved
it
all
.
There
was
n't
a
place
where
one
could
sit
and
read
in
the
whole
house
.
My
books
went
upon
shelves
in
the
dining-room
recess
.
And
we
had
a
piano
though
Marion
's
playing
was
at
an
elementary
level
.
You
know
,
it
was
the
cruelest
luck
for
Marion
that
I
,
with
my
restlessness
,
my
scepticism
,
my
constantly
developing
ideas
,
had
insisted
on
marriage
with
her
.
She
had
no
faculty
of
growth
or
change
;
she
had
taken
her
mould
,
she
had
set
in
the
limited
ideas
of
her
peculiar
class
.
She
preserved
her
conception
of
what
was
right
in
drawing-room
chairs
and
in
marriage
ceremonial
and
in
every
relation
of
life
with
a
simple
and
luminous
honesty
and
conviction
,
with
an
immense
unimaginative
inflexibility-as
a
tailor-bird
builds
its
nest
or
a
beaver
makes
its
dam
.
Let
me
hasten
over
this
history
of
disappointments
and
separation
.
I
might
tell
of
waxings
and
waning
of
love
between
us
,
but
the
whole
was
waning
.
Sometimes
she
would
do
things
for
me
,
make
me
a
tie
or
a
pair
of
slippers
,
and
fill
me
with
none
the
less
gratitude
because
the
things
were
absurd
.
She
ran
our
home
and
our
one
servant
with
a
hard
,
bright
efficiency
.
She
was
inordinately
proud
of
house
and
garden
.
Always
,
by
her
lights
,
she
did
her
duty
by
me
.
Presently
the
rapid
development
of
Tono-Bungay
began
to
take
me
into
the
provinces
,
and
I
would
be
away
sometimes
for
a
week
together
.
This
she
did
not
like
;
it
left
her
"
dull
,
"
she
said
,
but
after
a
time
she
began
to
go
to
Smithie
's
again
and
to
develop
an
independence
of
me
.
At
Smithie
's
she
was
now
a
woman
with
a
position
;
she
had
money
to
spend
.
She
would
take
Smithie
to
theatres
and
out
to
lunch
and
talk
interminably
of
the
business
,
and
Smithie
became
a
sort
of
permanent
weekender
with
us
.
Also
Marion
got
a
spaniel
and
began
to
dabble
with
the
minor
arts
,
with
poker-work
and
a
Kodak
and
hyacinths
in
glasses
.
She
called
once
on
a
neighbour
.
Her
parents
left
Walham
Green-her
father
severed
his
connection
with
the
gas-works-and
came
to
live
in
a
small
house
I
took
for
them
near
us
,
and
they
were
much
with
us
.
Odd
the
littleness
of
the
things
that
exasperate
when
the
fountains
of
life
are
embittered
!
My
father-in-law
was
perpetually
catching
me
in
moody
moments
and
urging
me
to
take
to
gardening
.
He
irritated
me
beyond
measure
.
"
You
think
too
much
,
"
he
would
say
.
"
If
you
was
to
let
in
a
bit
with
a
spade
,
you
might
soon
'
ave
that
garden
of
yours
a
Vision
of
Flowers
.
That
's
better
than
thinking
,
George
.
"
Or
in
a
torrent
of
exasperation
,
"
I
CAR
N'T
think
,
George
,
why
you
do
n't
get
a
bit
of
glass
'
ere
.
This
sunny
corner
you
c
'd
do
wonders
with
a
bit
of
glass
.
"
And
in
the
summer
time
he
never
came
in
without
performing
a
sort
of
conjuring
trick
in
the
hall
,
and
taking
cucumbers
and
tomatoes
from
unexpected
points
of
his
person
.
"
All
out
o
'
MY
little
bit
,
"
he
'd
say
in
exemplary
tones
.
He
left
a
trail
of
vegetable
produce
in
the
most
unusual
places
,
on
mantel
boards
,
sideboards
,
the
tops
of
pictures
.
Heavens
!
how
the
sudden
unexpected
tomato
could
annoy
me
!
...
It
did
much
to
widen
our
estrangement
that
Marion
and
my
aunt
failed
to
make
friends
,
became
,
by
a
sort
of
instinct
,
antagonistic
.
My
aunt
,
to
begin
with
,
called
rather
frequently
,
for
she
was
really
anxious
to
know
Marion
.
At
first
she
would
arrive
like
a
whirlwind
and
pervade
the
house
with
an
atmosphere
of
hello
!
She
dressed
already
with
that
cheerfully
extravagant
abandon
that
signalised
her
accession
to
fortune
,
and
dressed
her
best
for
these
visits
.
She
wanted
to
play
the
mother
to
me
,
I
fancy
,
to
tell
Marion
occult
secrets
about
the
way
I
wore
out
my
boots
and
how
I
never
could
think
to
put
on
thicker
things
in
cold
weather
.
But
Marion
received
her
with
that
defensive
suspiciousness
of
the
shy
person
,
thinking
only
of
the
possible
criticism
of
herself
;
and
my
aunt
,
perceiving
this
,
became
nervous
and
slangy
...
"
She
says
such
queer
things
,
"
said
Marion
once
,
discussing
her
.
"
But
I
suppose
it
's
witty
.
"
"
Yes
,
"
I
said
;
"
it
IS
witty
.
"
"
If
I
said
things
like
she
does-
"
The
queer
things
my
aunt
said
were
nothing
to
the
queer
things
she
did
n't
say
.
I
remember
her
in
our
drawing-room
one
day
,
and
how
she
cocked
her
eye-it
's
the
only
expression-at
the
India-rubber
plant
in
a
Doulton-ware
pot
which
Marion
had
placed
on
the
corner
of
the
piano
.
She
was
on
the
very
verge
of
speech
.
Then
suddenly
she
caught
my
expression
,
and
shrank
up
like
a
cat
that
has
been
discovered
looking
at
the
milk
.
Then
a
wicked
impulse
took
her
.
"
Did
n't
say
an
old
word
,
George
,
"
she
insisted
,
looking
me
full
in
the
eye
.
I
smiled
.
"
You
're
a
dear
,
"
I
said
,
"
not
to
,
"
as
Marion
came
lowering
into
the
room
to
welcome
her
.
But
I
felt
extraordinarily
like
a
traitor-to
the
India-rubber
plant
,
I
suppose-for
all
that
nothing
had
been
said
...
"
Your
aunt
makes
Game
of
people
,
"
was
Marion
's
verdict
,
and
,
open-mindedly
:
"
I
suppose
it
's
all
right
...
for
her
.
"
Several
times
we
went
to
the
house
in
Beckenham
for
lunch
,
and
once
or
twice
to
dinner
.
My
aunt
did
her
peculiar
best
to
be
friends
,
but
Marion
was
implacable
.
She
was
also
,
I
know
,
intensely
uncomfortable
,
and
she
adopted
as
her
social
method
,
an
exhausting
silence
,
replying
compactly
and
without
giving
openings
to
anything
that
was
said
to
her
.
The
gaps
between
my
aunt
's
visits
grew
wider
and
wider
.
My
married
existence
became
at
last
like
a
narrow
deep
groove
in
the
broad
expanse
of
interests
in
which
I
was
living
.
I
went
about
the
world
;
I
met
a
great
number
of
varied
personalities
;
I
read
endless
books
in
trains
as
I
went
to
and
fro
.
I
developed
social
relationships
at
my
uncle
's
house
that
Marion
did
not
share
.
The
seeds
of
new
ideas
poured
in
upon
me
and
grew
in
me
.
Those
early
and
middle
years
of
one
's
third
decade
are
,
I
suppose
,
for
a
man
the
years
of
greatest
mental
growth
.
They
are
restless
years
and
full
of
vague
enterprise
.
Each
time
I
returned
to
Ealing
,
life
there
seemed
more
alien
,
narrow
,
and
unattractive-and
Marion
less
beautiful
and
more
limited
and
difficult-until
at
last
she
was
robbed
of
every
particle
of
her
magic
.
She
gave
me
always
a
cooler
welcome
,
I
think
,
until
she
seemed
entirely
apathetic
.
I
never
asked
myself
then
what
heartaches
she
might
hide
or
what
her
discontents
might
be
.
I
would
come
home
hoping
nothing
,
expecting
nothing
.
This
was
my
fated
life
,
and
I
had
chosen
it
.
I
became
more
sensitive
to
the
defects
I
had
once
disregarded
altogether
;
I
began
to
associate
her
sallow
complexion
with
her
temperamental
insufficiency
,
and
the
heavier
lines
of
her
mouth
and
nostril
with
her
moods
of
discontent
.
We
drifted
apart
;
wider
and
wider
the
gap
opened
.
I
tired
of
baby-talk
and
stereotyped
little
fondlings
;
I
tired
of
the
latest
intelligence
from
those
wonderful
workrooms
,
and
showed
it
all
too
plainly
;
we
hardly
spoke
when
we
were
alone
together
.
The
mere
unreciprocated
physical
residue
of
my
passion
remained-an
exasperation
between
us
.
No
children
came
to
save
us
.
Marion
had
acquired
at
Smithie
's
a
disgust
and
dread
of
maternity
.
All
that
was
the
fruition
and
quintessence
of
the
"
horrid
"
elements
in
life
,
a
disgusting
thing
,
a
last
indignity
that
overtook
unwary
women
.
I
doubt
indeed
a
little
if
children
would
have
saved
us
;
we
should
have
differed
so
fatally
about
their
upbringing
.
Altogether
,
I
remember
my
life
with
Marion
as
a
long
distress
,
now
hard
,
now
tender
.
It
was
in
those
days
that
I
first
became
critical
of
my
life
and
burdened
with
a
sense
of
error
and
maladjustment
.
I
would
lie
awake
in
the
night
,
asking
myself
the
purpose
of
things
,
reviewing
my
unsatisfying
,
ungainly
home-life
,
my
days
spent
in
rascal
enterprise
and
rubbish-selling
,
contrasting
all
I
was
being
and
doing
with
my
adolescent
ambitions
,
my
Wimblehurst
dreams
.
My
circumstances
had
an
air
of
finality
,
and
I
asked
myself
in
vain
why
I
had
forced
myself
into
them
.
The
end
of
our
intolerable
situation
came
suddenly
and
unexpectedly
,
but
in
a
way
that
I
suppose
was
almost
inevitable
.
My
alienated
affections
wandered
,
and
I
was
unfaithful
to
Marion
.
I
wo
n't
pretend
to
extenuate
the
quality
of
my
conduct
.
I
was
a
young
and
fairly
vigorous
male
;
all
my
appetite
for
love
had
been
roused
and
whetted
and
none
of
it
had
been
satisfied
by
my
love
affair
and
my
marriage
.
I
had
pursued
an
elusive
gleam
of
beauty
to
the
disregard
of
all
else
,
and
it
had
failed
me
.
It
had
faded
when
I
had
hoped
it
would
grow
brighter
.
I
despaired
of
life
and
was
embittered
.
And
things
happened
as
I
am
telling
.
I
do
n't
draw
any
moral
at
all
in
the
matter
,
and
as
for
social
remedies
,
I
leave
them
to
the
social
reformer
.
I
've
got
to
a
time
of
life
when
the
only
theories
that
interest
me
are
generalisations
about
realities
.
To
go
to
our
inner
office
in
Raggett
Street
I
had
to
walk
through
a
room
in
which
the
typists
worked
.
They
were
the
correspondence
typists
;
our
books
and
invoicing
had
long
since
overflowed
into
the
premises
we
had
had
the
luck
to
secure
on
either
side
of
us
.
I
was
,
I
must
confess
,
always
in
a
faintly
cloudily-emotional
way
aware
of
that
collection
of
for
the
most
part
round-shouldered
femininity
,
but
presently
one
of
the
girls
detached
herself
from
the
others
and
got
a
real
hold
upon
my
attention
.
I
appreciated
her
at
first
as
a
straight
little
back
,
a
neater
back
than
any
of
the
others
;
as
a
softly
rounded
neck
with
a
smiling
necklace
of
sham
pearls
;
as
chestnut
hair
very
neatly
done-and
as
a
side-long
glance
;
presently
as
a
quickly
turned
face
that
looked
for
me
.
My
eye
would
seek
her
as
I
went
through
on
business
things-I
dictated
some
letters
to
her
and
so
discovered
she
had
pretty
,
soft-looking
hands
with
pink
nails
.
Once
or
twice
,
meeting
casually
,
we
looked
one
another
for
the
flash
of
a
second
in
the
eyes
.
That
was
all
.
But
it
was
enough
in
the
mysterious
free-masonry
of
sex
to
say
essential
things
.
We
had
a
secret
between
us
.
One
day
I
came
into
Raggett
Street
at
lunch
time
and
she
was
alone
,
sitting
at
her
desk
.
She
glanced
up
as
I
entered
,
and
then
became
very
still
,
with
a
downcast
face
and
her
hands
clenched
on
the
table
.
I
walked
right
by
her
to
the
door
of
the
inner
office
,
stopped
,
came
back
and
stood
over
her
.
We
neither
of
us
spoke
for
quite
a
perceptible
time
.
I
was
trembling
violently
.
"
Is
that
one
of
the
new
typewriters
?
"
I
asked
at
last
for
the
sake
of
speaking
.
She
looked
up
at
me
without
a
word
,
with
her
face
flushed
and
her
eyes
alight
,
and
I
bent
down
and
kissed
her
lips
.
She
leant
back
to
put
an
arm
about
me
,
drew
my
face
to
her
and
kissed
me
again
and
again
.
I
lifted
her
and
held
her
in
my
arms
.
She
gave
a
little
smothered
cry
to
feel
herself
so
held
.
Never
before
had
I
known
the
quality
of
passionate
kisses
.
Somebody
became
audible
in
the
shop
outside
.
We
started
back
from
one
another
with
flushed
faces
and
bright
and
burning
eyes
.
"
We
ca
n't
talk
here
,
"
I
whispered
with
a
confident
intimacy
.
"
Where
do
you
go
at
five
?
"
"
Along
the
Embankment
to
Charing
Cross
,
"
she
answered
as
intimately
.
"
None
of
the
others
go
that
way
...
"
"
About
half-past
five
?
"
"
Yes
,
half-past
five
...
"
The
door
from
the
shop
opened
,
and
she
sat
down
very
quickly
.
"
I
'm
glad
,
"
I
said
in
a
commonplace
voice
,
"
that
these
new
typewriters
are
all
right
.
"
I
went
into
the
inner
office
and
routed
out
the
paysheet
in
order
to
find
her
name-Effie
Rink
.
And
did
no
work
at
all
that
afternoon
.
I
fretted
about
that
dingy
little
den
like
a
beast
in
a
cage
.
When
presently
I
went
out
,
Effie
was
working
with
an
extraordinary
appearance
of
calm-and
there
was
no
look
for
me
at
all
...
.
We
met
and
had
our
talk
that
evening
,
a
talk
in
whispers
when
there
was
none
to
overhear
;
we
came
to
an
understanding
.
It
was
strangely
unlike
any
dream
of
romance
I
had
ever
entertained
.
I
came
back
after
a
week
's
absence
to
my
home
again-a
changed
man
.
I
had
lived
out
my
first
rush
of
passion
for
Effie
,
had
come
to
a
contemplation
of
my
position
.
I
had
gauged
Effie
's
place
in
the
scheme
of
things
,
and
parted
from
her
for
a
time
.
She
was
back
in
her
place
at
Raggett
Street
after
a
temporary
indisposition
.
I
did
not
feel
in
any
way
penitent
or
ashamed
,
I
know
,
as
I
opened
the
little
cast-iron
gate
that
kept
Marion
's
front
grader
and
Pampas
Grass
from
the
wandering
dog
.
Indeed
,
if
anything
,
I
felt
as
if
I
had
vindicated
some
right
that
had
been
in
question
.
I
came
back
to
Marion
with
no
sense
of
wrong-doing
at
all
with
,
indeed
,
a
new
friendliness
towards
her
.
I
do
n't
know
how
it
may
be
proper
to
feel
on
such
occasions
;
that
is
how
I
felt
.
I
followed
her
in
our
drawing-room
,
standing
beside
the
tall
lamp-stand
that
half
filled
the
bay
as
though
she
had
just
turned
from
watching
for
me
at
the
window
.
There
was
something
in
her
pale
face
that
arrested
me
.
She
looked
as
if
she
had
not
been
sleeping
.
She
did
not
come
forward
to
greet
me
.
"
You
've
come
home
,
"
she
said
.
"
As
I
wrote
to
you
.
"
She
stood
very
still
,
a
dusky
figure
against
the
bright
window
.
"
Where
have
you
been
?
"
she
asked
.
"
East
Coast
,
"
I
said
easily
.
She
paused
for
a
moment
.
"
I
KNOW
,
"
she
said
.
I
stared
at
her
.
It
was
the
most
amazing
moment
in
any
life
...
.
"
By
Jove
!
"
I
said
at
last
,
"
I
believe
you
do
!
"
"
And
then
you
come
home
to
me
!
"
I
walked
to
the
hearthrug
and
stood
quite
still
there
regarding
this
new
situation
.
"
I
did
n't
dream
,
"
she
began
.
"
How
could
you
do
such
a
thing
?
"
It
seemed
a
long
interval
before
either
of
us
spoke
another
word
.
"
Who
knows
about
it
?
"
I
asked
at
last
.
"
Smithie
's
brother
.
They
were
at
Cromer
.
"
"
Confound
Cromer
!
Yes
!
"
"
How
could
you
bring
yourself
"
I
felt
a
spasm
of
petulant
annoyance
at
this
unexpected
catastrophe
.
"
I
should
like
to
wring
Smithie
's
brother
's
neck
,
"
I
said
...
.
Marion
spoke
in
dry
,
broken
fragments
of
sentences
.
"
You
...
I
'd
always
thought
that
anyhow
you
could
n't
deceive
me
...
I
suppose
all
men
are
horrid-about
this
.
"
"
It
does
n't
strike
me
as
horrid
.
It
seems
to
me
the
most
necessary
consequence-and
natural
thing
in
the
world
.
"
I
became
aware
of
some
one
moving
about
in
the
passage
,
and
went
and
shut
the
door
of
the
room
,
then
I
walked
back
to
the
hearthrug
and
turned
.
"
It
's
rough
on
you
,
"
I
said
.
"
But
I
did
n't
mean
you
to
know
.
You
've
never
cared
for
me
.
I
've
had
the
devil
of
a
time
.
Why
should
you
mind
?
"
She
sat
down
in
a
draped
armchair
.
"
I
HAVE
cared
for
you
,
"
she
said
.
I
shrugged
my
shoulders
.
"
I
suppose
,
"
she
said
,
"
SHE
cares
for
you
?
"
I
had
no
answer
.
"
Where
is
she
now
?
"
"
Oh
!
does
it
matter
to
you
?
...
Look
here
,
Marion
!
This-this
I
did
n't
anticipate
.
I
did
n't
mean
this
thing
to
smash
down
on
you
like
this
.
But
,
you
know
,
something
had
to
happen
.
I
'm
sorry-sorry
to
the
bottom
of
my
heart
that
things
have
come
to
this
between
us
.
But
indeed
,
I
'm
taken
by
surprise
.
I
do
n't
know
where
I
am-I
do
n't
know
how
we
got
here
.
Things
took
me
by
surprise
.
I
found
myself
alone
with
her
one
day
.
I
kissed
her
.
I
went
on
.
It
seemed
stupid
to
go
back
.
And
besides-why
should
I
have
gone
back
?
Why
should
I
?
From
first
to
last
,
I
've
hardly
thought
of
it
as
touching
you
...
.
Damn
!
"
She
scrutinised
my
face
,
and
pulled
at
the
ball-fringe
of
the
little
table
beside
her
.
"
To
think
of
it
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
do
n't
believe
I
can
ever
touch
you
again
.
"
We
kept
a
long
silence
.
I
was
only
beginning
to
realise
in
the
most
superficial
way
the
immense
catastrophe
that
had
happened
between
us
.
Enormous
issues
had
rushed
upon
us
.
I
felt
unprepared
and
altogether
inadequate
.
I
was
unreasonably
angry
.
There
came
a
rush
of
stupid
expressions
to
my
mind
that
my
rising
sense
of
the
supreme
importance
of
the
moment
saved
me
from
saying
.
The
gap
of
silence
widened
until
it
threatened
to
become
the
vast
memorable
margin
of
some
one
among
a
thousand
trivial
possibilities
of
speech
that
would
vex
our
relations
for
ever
.
Our
little
general
servant
tapped
at
the
door-Marion
always
liked
the
servant
to
tap-and
appeared
.
"
Tea
,
M
'm
,
"
she
said-and
vanished
,
leaving
the
door
open
.
"
I
will
go
upstairs
,
"
said
I
,
and
stopped
.
"
I
will
go
upstairs
"
I
repeated
,
"
and
put
my
bag
in
the
spare
room
.
"
We
remained
motionless
and
silent
for
a
few
seconds
.
"
Mother
is
having
tea
with
us
to-day
,
"
Marion
remarked
at
last
,
and
dropped
the
worried
end
of
ball-fringe
and
stood
up
slowly
...
.
And
so
,
with
this
immense
discussion
of
our
changed
relations
hanging
over
us
,
we
presently
had
tea
with
the
unsuspecting
Mrs.
Ramboat
and
the
spaniel
.
Mrs.
Ramboat
was
too
well
trained
in
her
position
to
remark
upon
our
somber
preoccupation
.
She
kept
a
thin
trickle
of
talk
going
,
and
told
us
,
I
remember
,
that
Mr.
Ramboat
was
"
troubled
"
about
his
cannas
.
"
They
do
n't
come
up
and
they
wo
n't
come
up
.
He
's
been
round
and
had
an
explanation
with
the
man
who
sold
him
the
bulbs-and
he
's
very
heated
and
upset
.
"
The
spaniel
was
a
great
bore
,
begging
and
doing
small
tricks
first
at
one
and
then
at
the
other
of
us
.
Neither
of
us
used
his
name
.
You
see
we
had
called
him
Miggles
,
and
made
a
sort
of
trio
in
the
baby-talk
of
Mutney
and
Miggles
and
Ming
.
Then
presently
we
resumed
our
monstrous
,
momentous
dialogue
.
I
ca
n't
now
make
out
how
long
that
dialogue
went
on
.
It
spread
itself
,
I
know
,
in
heavy
fragments
over
either
three
days
or
four
.
I
remember
myself
grouped
with
Marion
,
talking
sitting
on
our
bed
in
her
room
,
talking
standing
in
our
dining-room
,
saving
this
thing
or
that
.
Twice
we
went
for
long
walks
.
And
we
had
a
long
evening
alone
together
,
with
jaded
nerves
and
hearts
that
fluctuated
between
a
hard
and
dreary
recognition
of
facts
and
,
on
my
part
at
least
,
a
strange
unwonted
tenderness
;
because
in
some
extraordinary
way
this
crisis
had
destroyed
our
mutual
apathy
and
made
us
feel
one
another
again
.
It
was
a
dialogue
that
had
discrepant
parts
that
fell
into
lumps
of
talk
that
failed
to
join
on
to
their
predecessors
,
that
began
again
at
a
different
level
,
higher
or
lower
,
that
assumed
new
aspects
in
the
intervals
and
assimilated
new
considerations
.
We
discussed
the
fact
that
we
two
were
no
longer
lovers
;
never
before
had
we
faced
that
.
It
seems
a
strange
thing
to
write
,
but
as
I
look
back
,
I
see
clearly
that
those
several
days
were
the
time
when
Marion
and
I
were
closest
together
,
looked
for
the
first
and
last
time
faithfully
and
steadfastly
into
each
other
's
soul
.
For
those
days
only
,
there
were
no
pretences
,
I
made
no
concessions
to
her
nor
she
to
me
;
we
concealed
nothing
,
exaggerated
nothing
.
We
had
done
with
pretending
.
We
had
it
out
plainly
and
soberly
with
each
other
.
Mood
followed
mood
and
got
its
stark
expression
.
Of
course
there
was
quarreling
between
us
,
bitter
quarreling
,
and
we
said
things
to
one
another-long
pent-up
things
that
bruised
and
crushed
and
cut
.
But
over
it
all
in
my
memory
now
is
an
effect
of
deliberate
confrontation
,
and
the
figure
of
Marion
stands
up
,
pale
,
melancholy
,
tear-stained
,
injured
,
implacable
and
dignified
.
"
You
love
her
?
"
she
asked
once
,
and
jerked
that
doubt
into
my
mind
.
I
struggled
with
tangled
ideas
and
emotions
.
"
I
do
n't
know
what
love
is
.
It
's
all
sorts
of
things-it
's
made
of
a
dozen
strands
twisted
in
a
thousand
ways
.
"
"
But
you
want
her
?
You
want
her
now-when
you
think
of
her
?
"
"
Yes
,
"
I
reflected
.
"
I
want
her-right
enough
.
"
"
And
me
?
Where
do
I
come
in
?
"
"
I
suppose
you
come
in
here
.
"
"
Well
,
but
what
are
you
going
to
do
?
"
"
Do
!
"
I
said
with
the
exasperation
of
the
situation
growing
upon
me
.
"
What
do
you
want
me
to
do
?
"
As
I
look
back
upon
all
that
time-across
a
gulf
of
fifteen
active
years-I
find
I
see
it
with
an
understanding
judgment
.
I
see
it
as
if
it
were
the
business
of
some
one
else-indeed
of
two
other
people-intimately
known
yet
judged
without
passion
.
I
see
now
that
this
shock
,
this
sudden
immense
disillusionment
,
did
in
real
fact
bring
out
a
mind
and
soul
in
Marion
;
that
for
the
first
time
she
emerged
from
habits
,
timidities
,
imitations
,
phrases
and
a
certain
narrow
will-impulse
,
and
became
a
personality
.
Her
ruling
motive
at
first
was
,
I
think
,
an
indignant
and
outraged
pride
.
This
situation
must
end
.
She
asked
me
categorically
to
give
up
Effie
,
and
I
,
full
of
fresh
and
glowing
memories
,
absolutely
refused
.
"
It
's
too
late
,
Marion
,
"
I
said
.
"
It
ca
n't
be
done
like
that
.
"
"
Then
we
ca
n't
very
well
go
on
living
together
,
"
she
said
.
"
Can
we
?
"
"
Very
well
,
"
I
deliberated
"
if
you
must
have
it
so
.
"
"
Well
,
can
we
?
"
"
Can
you
stay
in
this
house
?
I
mean-if
I
go
away
?
"
"
I
do
n't
know
...
.
I
do
n't
think
I
could
.
"
"
Then-what
do
you
want
?
"
Slowly
we
worked
our
way
from
point
to
point
,
until
at
last
the
word
"
divorce
"
was
before
us
.
"
If
we
ca
n't
live
together
we
ought
to
be
free
,
"
said
Marion
.
"
I
do
n't
know
anything
of
divorce
,
"
I
said-
"
if
you
mean
that
.
I
do
n't
know
how
it
is
done
.
I
shall
have
to
ask
somebody-or
look
it
up
...
.
Perhaps
,
after
all
,
it
is
the
thing
to
do
.
We
may
as
well
face
it
.
"
We
began
to
talk
ourselves
into
a
realisation
of
what
our
divergent
futures
might
be
.
I
came
back
on
the
evening
of
that
day
with
my
questions
answered
by
a
solicitor
.
"
We
ca
n't
as
a
matter
of
fact
,
"
I
said
,
"
get
divorced
as
things
are
.
Apparently
,
so
far
as
the
law
goes
you
've
got
to
stand
this
sort
of
thing
.
It
's
silly
but
that
is
the
law
.
However
,
it
's
easy
to
arrange
a
divorce
.
In
addition
to
adultery
there
must
be
desertion
or
cruelty
.
To
establish
cruelty
I
should
have
to
strike
you
,
or
something
of
that
sort
,
before
witnesses
.
That
's
impossible-but
it
's
simple
to
desert
you
legally
.
I
have
to
go
away
from
you
;
that
's
all
.
I
can
go
on
sending
you
money-and
you
bring
a
suit
,
what
is
it
?
-for
Restitution
of
Conjugal
Rights
.
The
Court
orders
me
to
return
.
I
disobey
.
Then
you
can
go
on
to
divorce
me
.
You
get
a
Decree
Nisi
,
and
once
more
the
Court
tries
to
make
me
come
back
.
If
we
do
n't
make
it
up
within
six
months
and
if
you
do
n't
behave
scandalously
the
Decree
is
made
absolute
.
That
's
the
end
of
the
fuss
.
That
's
how
one
gets
unmarried
.
It
's
easier
,
you
see
,
to
marry
than
unmarry
.
"
"
And
then-how
do
I
live
?
What
becomes
of
me
?
"
"
You
'll
have
an
income
.
They
call
it
alimony
.
From
a
third
to
a
half
of
my
present
income-more
if
you
like-I
do
n't
mind-three
hundred
a
year
,
say
.
You
've
got
your
old
people
to
keep
and
you
'll
need
all
that
.
"
"
And
then-then
you
'll
be
free
?
"
"
Both
of
us
.
"
"
And
all
this
life
you
've
hated
"
I
looked
up
at
her
wrung
and
bitter
face
.
"
I
have
n't
hated
it
,
"
I
lied
,
my
voice
near
breaking
with
the
pain
of
it
all
.
"
Have
you
?
"
The
perplexing
thing
about
life
is
the
irresolvable
complexity
of
reality
,
of
things
and
relations
alike
.
Nothing
is
simple
.
Every
wrong
done
has
a
certain
justice
in
it
,
and
every
good
deed
has
dregs
of
evil
.
As
for
us
,
young
still
,
and
still
without
self-knowledge
,
resounded
a
hundred
discordant
notes
in
the
harsh
angle
of
that
shock
.
We
were
furiously
angry
with
each
other
,
tender
with
each
other
,
callously
selfish
,
generously
self-sacrificing
.
I
remember
Marion
saying
innumerable
detached
things
that
did
n't
hang
together
one
with
another
,
that
contradicted
one
another
,
that
were
,
nevertheless
,
all
in
their
places
profoundly
true
and
sincere
.
I
see
them
now
as
so
many
vain
experiments
in
her
effort
to
apprehend
the
crumpled
confusions
of
our
complex
moral
landslide
.
Some
I
found
irritating
beyond
measure
.
I
answered
her-sometimes
quite
abominably
.
"
Of
course
,
"
she
would
say
again
and
again
,
"
my
life
has
been
a
failure
.
"
"
I
've
besieged
you
for
three
years
,
"
I
would
retort
"
asking
it
not
to
be
.
You
've
done
as
you
pleased
.
If
I
've
turned
away
at
last-
"
Or
again
she
would
revive
all
the
stresses
before
our
marriage
.
"
How
you
must
hate
me
!
I
made
you
wait
.
Well
now-I
suppose
you
have
your
revenge
.
"
"
REVENGE
!
"
I
echoed
.
Then
she
would
try
over
the
aspects
of
our
new
separated
lives
.
"
I
ought
to
earn
my
own
living
,
"
she
would
insist
.
"
I
want
to
be
quite
independent
.
I
've
always
hated
London
.
Perhaps
I
shall
try
a
poultry
farm
and
bees
.
You
wo
n't
mind
at
first
my
being
a
burden
.
Afterwards-
"
"
We
've
settled
all
that
,
"
I
said
.
"
I
suppose
you
will
hate
me
anyhow
...
"
There
were
times
when
she
seemed
to
regard
our
separation
with
absolute
complacency
,
when
she
would
plan
all
sorts
of
freedoms
and
characteristic
interests
.
"
I
shall
go
out
a
lot
with
Smithie
,
"
she
said
.
And
once
she
said
an
ugly
thing
that
I
did
indeed
hate
her
for
that
I
cannot
even
now
quite
forgive
her
.
"
Your
aunt
will
rejoice
at
all
this
.
She
never
cared
for
me
...
"
Into
my
memory
of
these
pains
and
stresses
comes
the
figure
of
Smithie
,
full-charged
with
emotion
,
so
breathless
in
the
presence
of
the
horrid
villain
of
the
piece
that
she
could
make
no
articulate
sounds
.
She
had
long
tearful
confidences
with
Marion
,
I
know
,
sympathetic
close
clingings
.
There
were
moments
when
only
absolute
speechlessness
prevented
her
giving
me
a
stupendous
"
talking-to
"
-I
could
see
it
in
her
eye
.
The
wrong
things
she
would
have
said
!
And
I
recall
,
too
,
Mrs.
Ramboat
's
slow
awakening
to
something
in
,
the
air
,
the
growing
expression
of
solicitude
in
her
eye
,
only
her
well-trained
fear
of
Marion
keeping
her
from
speech
.
And
at
last
through
all
this
welter
,
like
a
thing
fated
and
altogether
beyond
our
control
,
parting
came
to
Marion
and
me
.
I
hardened
my
heart
,
or
I
could
not
have
gone
.
For
at
the
last
it
came
to
Marion
that
she
was
parting
from
me
for
ever
.
That
overbore
all
other
things
,
had
turned
our
last
hour
to
anguish
.
She
forgot
for
a
time
the
prospect
of
moving
into
a
new
house
,
she
forgot
the
outrage
on
her
proprietorship
and
pride
.
For
the
first
time
in
her
life
she
really
showed
strong
emotions
in
regard
to
me
,
for
the
first
time
,
perhaps
,
they
really
came
to
her
.
She
began
to
weep
slow
,
reluctant
tears
.
I
came
into
her
room
,
and
found
her
asprawl
on
the
bed
,
weeping
.
"
I
did
n't
know
,
"
she
cried
.
"
Oh
!
I
did
n't
understand
!
"
"
I
've
been
a
fool
.
All
my
life
is
a
wreck
!
"
I
shall
be
alone
!
...
MUTNEY
!
Mutney
,
do
n't
leave
me
!
Oh
!
Mutney
!
I
did
n't
understand
.
"
I
had
to
harden
my
heart
indeed
,
for
it
seemed
to
me
at
moments
in
those
last
hours
together
that
at
last
,
too
late
,
the
longed-for
thing
had
happened
and
Marion
had
come
alive
.
A
new-born
hunger
for
me
lit
her
eyes
.
"
Do
n't
leave
me
!
"
she
said
,
"
do
n't
leave
me
!
"
She
clung
to
me
;
she
kissed
me
with
tear-salt
lips
.
I
was
promised
now
and
pledged
,
and
I
hardened
my
heart
against
this
impossible
dawn
.
Yet
it
seems
to
me
that
there
were
moments
when
it
needed
but
a
cry
,
but
one
word
to
have
united
us
again
for
all
our
lives
.
Could
we
have
united
again
?
Would
that
passage
have
enlightened
us
for
ever
or
should
we
have
fallen
back
in
a
week
or
so
into
the
old
estrangement
,
the
old
temperamental
opposition
?
Of
that
there
is
now
no
telling
.
Our
own
resolve
carried
us
on
our
predestined
way
.
We
behaved
more
and
more
like
separating
lovers
,
parting
inexorably
,
but
all
the
preparations
we
had
set
going
worked
on
like
a
machine
,
and
we
made
no
attempt
to
stop
them
.
My
trunks
and
boxes
went
to
the
station
.
I
packed
my
bag
with
Marion
standing
before
me
.
We
were
like
children
who
had
hurt
each
other
horribly
in
sheer
stupidity
,
who
did
n't
know
now
how
to
remedy
it
.
We
belonged
to
each
other
immensely-immensely
.
The
cab
came
to
the
little
iron
gate
.
"
Good-bye
!
"
I
said
.
"
Good-bye
.
"
For
a
moment
we
held
one
another
in
each
other
's
arms
and
kissed-incredibly
without
malice
.
We
heard
our
little
servant
in
the
passage
going
to
open
the
door
.
For
the
last
time
we
pressed
ourselves
to
one
another
.
We
were
not
lovers
nor
enemies
,
but
two
human
souls
in
a
frank
community
of
pain
.
I
tore
myself
from
her
.
"
Go
away
,
"
I
said
to
the
servant
,
seeing
that
Marion
had
followed
me
down
.
I
felt
her
standing
behind
me
as
I
spoke
to
the
cab
man
.
I
got
into
the
cab
,
resolutely
not
looking
back
,
and
then
as
it
started
jumped
up
,
craned
out
and
looked
at
the
door
.
It
was
wide
open
,
but
she
had
disappeared
...
.
I
wonder-I
suppose
she
ran
upstairs
.
So
I
parted
from
Marion
at
an
extremity
of
perturbation
and
regret
,
and
went
,
as
I
had
promised
and
arranged
,
to
Effie
,
who
was
waiting
for
me
in
apartments
near
Orpington
.
I
remember
her
upon
the
station
platform
,
a
bright
,
flitting
figure
looking
along
the
train
for
me
,
and
our
walk
over
the
fields
in
the
twilight
.
I
had
expected
an
immense
sense
of
relief
where
at
last
the
stresses
of
separation
were
over
,
but
now
I
found
I
was
beyond
measure
wretched
and
perplexed
,
full
of
the
profoundest
persuasion
of
irreparable
error
.
The
dusk
and
somber
Marion
were
so
alike
,
her
sorrow
seemed
to
be
all
about
me
.
I
had
to
hold
myself
to
my
own
plans
,
to
remember
that
I
must
keep
faith
with
Effie
,
with
Effie
who
had
made
no
terms
,
exacted
no
guarantees
,
but
flung
herself
into
my
hands
.
We
went
across
the
evening
fields
in
silence
,
towards
a
sky
of
deepening
gold
and
purple
,
and
Effie
was
close
beside
me
always
,
very
close
,
glancing
up
ever
and
again
at
my
face
.
Certainly
she
knew
I
grieved
for
Marion
,
that
ours
was
now
no
joyful
reunion
.
But
she
showed
no
resentment
and
no
jealousy
.
Extraordinarily
,
she
did
not
compete
against
Marion
.
Never
once
in
all
our
time
together
did
she
say
an
adverse
word
of
Marion
...
.
She
set
herself
presently
to
dispel
the
shadow
that
brooded
over
me
with
the
same
instinctive
skill
that
some
women
will
show
with
the
trouble
of
a
child
.
She
made
herself
my
glad
and
pretty
slave
and
handmaid
;
she
forced
me
at
last
to
rejoice
in
her
.
Yet
at
the
back
of
it
all
Marion
remained
,
stupid
and
tearful
and
infinitely
distressful
,
so
that
I
was
almost
intolerably
unhappy
for
her-for
her
and
the
dead
body
of
my
married
love
.
It
is
all
,
as
I
tell
it
now
,
unaccountable
to
me
.
I
go
back
into
these
remote
parts
,
these
rarely
visited
uplands
and
lonely
tares
of
memory
,
and
it
seems
to
me
still
a
strange
country
.
I
had
thought
I
might
be
going
to
some
sensuous
paradise
with
Effie
,
but
desire
which
fills
the
universe
before
its
satisfaction
,
vanishes
utterly
like
the
going
of
daylight-with
achievement
.
All
the
facts
and
forms
of
life
remain
darkling
and
cold
.
It
was
an
upland
of
melancholy
questionings
,
a
region
from
which
I
saw
all
the
world
at
new
angles
and
in
new
aspects
;
I
had
outflanked
passion
and
romance
.
I
had
come
into
a
condition
of
vast
perplexities
.
For
the
first
time
in
my
life
,
at
least
so
it
seems
to
me
now
in
this
retrospect
,
I
looked
at
my
existence
as
a
whole
.
Since
this
was
nothing
,
what
was
I
doing
?
What
was
I
for
?
I
was
going
to
and
fro
about
Tono-Bungay-the
business
I
had
taken
up
to
secure
Marion
and
which
held
me
now
in
spite
of
our
intimate
separation-and
snatching
odd
week-ends
and
nights
for
Orpington
,
and
all
the
while
I
struggled
with
these
obstinate
interrogations
.
I
used
to
fall
into
musing
in
the
trains
,
I
became
even
a
little
inaccurate
and
forgetful
about
business
things
.
I
have
the
clearest
memory
of
myself
sitting
thoughtful
in
the
evening
sunlight
on
a
grassy
hillside
that
looked
toward
Seven
Oaks
and
commanded
a
wide
sweep
of
country
,
and
that
I
was
thinking
out
my
destiny
.
I
could
almost
write
my
thought
down
now
,
I
believe
,
as
they
came
to
me
that
afternoon
.
Effie
,
restless
little
cockney
that
she
was
,
rustled
and
struggled
in
a
hedgerow
below
,
gathering
flowers
,
discovering
flowers
she
