‘You would know more of me?’ ‘I would know everything about you,’ Gerald told her, his tone at once provocative and inviting. Have you seen much of her lately?” “Nothing at all,” he answered. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks. Out of an old family album: here was the very comparison that had eluded him. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. . Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable.
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