Rosie looked up at him and laughed. “What put that into your head?” she asked. “I’m perfectly happy.”
Shearwater was left a little at a loss. “Well, I’m very glad to hear it,” he said. “I only thought ... that perhaps you might think ... that I rather neglected you.”
Rosie laughed again. “What is all this about?” she said.
“I have it rather on my conscience,” said Shearwater. “I begin to see ... something has made me see ... that I’ve not.... I don’t treat you very well....”
“But I don’t n—notice it, I assure you,” put in Rosie, still smiling.
“I leave you out too much,” Shearwater went on with a kind of desperation, running his fingers through his thick brown hair. “We don’t share enough together. You’re too much outside my life.”
“But after all,” said Rosie, “we are a civ—vilized couple. We don’t want to live in one another’s pockets, do we?”
“No, but we’re really no more than strangers,” said Shearwater. “That isn’t right. And it’s my fault. I’ve never tried to get into touch with your life. But you did your best to understand mine ... at the beginning of our marriage.”
“Oh, then—n!” said Rosie, laughing. “You found out what a little idiot I was.”
“Don’t make a joke of it,” said Shearwater. “It isn’t a joke. It’s very serious. I tell you, I’ve come to see how stupid and inconsiderate and un-understanding I’ve been with you. I’ve come to see quite suddenly. The fact is,” he went on with a rush, like an uncorked fountain, “I’ve been seeing a woman recently whom I like very much, and who doesn’t like me.” Speaking of Mrs. Viveash, unconsciously he spoke her language. For Mrs. Viveash people always euphemistically ‘liked’ one another rather a lot, even when it was a case of the most frightful and excruciating passion, the most complete abandonments. “And somehow that’s made me see a lot of things which I’d been blind to before—blind deliberately, I suppose. It’s made me see, among other things, that I’ve really been to blame towards you, Rosie.”