In the lastresort, what holds a woman to any man,
except money?
She squeezed his arm and burst out
laughing.
He freed his arm from hers and stood away from her.
She still thoughtof herself as a very young girl, and so did everybody else. His
mind moved backwards,over his ten years of adult life. The streets were stilllocked
in their Sunday sleep.
And if I had a decent income youd go to bed with
metomorrow.
Shelonged to know the meaning of physical love, but
also she dreadedit. If we weremarried would you sleep with me?
She waswearing her mock-shovel hat again, because
he had said he liked it. He was being horribly unfair, and he knew it.
Lets go and have something to eatsomewhere. Thick
asautumnal leaves that strow the brooks in Vallombrosa.
I cant afford to shave every morning, he said
perversely. Each was to the other a standing joke andan object infinitely
precious.
If you knew how I hate my evenings
alone!
Youll be going all Barrie in another moment. She
fingered the broken button, then suddenly lifted hisdiscoloured Woolworths tie
aside. Gordon walked more boldly with Rosemary at his side. And the wifefinding you
out and breaking the cut-glass whisky decanter overyour head. With a sort of
melancholy triumphhe reflected that, after all, he was right. They had the station
practically to themselves. You would havethought young women were plague-rats by the
way Mrs Wisbeachspoke of them. My golden locks time hath to silver turned,
hethought.
There was somethingessentially frivolous about it.
And you think I ought to have stayed on at the New Albion, dontyou? I tell you every
womans the same when it comes to a thing likethis.
A trip even as far asBurnham Beeches would cost all
of ten bob.
If marriage is bad, the alternative is
worse.
And the wifefinding you out and breaking the
cut-glass whisky decanter overyour head. What do you do withyourself on Sundays,
Gordon? But you dont get manydays like that; a dozen at most in every winter. It was
the feeling of her body thatseemed to say it.