For four years now things have just happened to us.
All the time I have been overworking, first at explosives and now at
this fuel business. She too is full of her work.
"Nothing stops that though everything seems to interfere with it. And
in a distraught, preoccupied way we are abominably fond of each other.
'Fond' is the word. But we are both too busy to look after either
ourselves or each other.
"She is much more incapable than I am," said Sir Richmond as if he
delivered a weighed and very important judgment.
"You see very much of each other?"
"She has a flat in Chelsea and a little cottage in South Cornwall, and
we sometimes snatch a few days together, away somewhere in Surrey or up
the Thames or at such a place as Southend where one is lost in a crowd
of inconspicuous people. Then things go well--they usually go well at
the start--we are glorious companions. She is happy, she is creative,
she will light up a new place with flashes of humour, with a keenness of
appreciation...."
"But things do not always go well?"
"Things," said Sir Richmond with the deliberation of a man who measures
his words, "are apt to go wrong.... At the flat there is constant
trouble with the servants; they bully her. A woman is more entangled
with servants than a man.
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