"Val would say that was wrong too. . . . Lawrence, do you remember your first wedding night?"
"Well enough."
"Was Lizzie beautiful?"
"I thought so then. She was a tall, well-made piece: black hair, blue eyes, buxom and plenty of colour. I was shy of her because— it's a curious fact—she was my first experience of your sex: but she was not shy with me, though I believe she too was— technically—innocent. Even at the time I was conscious of something wanting—some grace, some reserve, some economy of effect. She was of a coming-on disposition, very amorous and towardly."
"Val would call that coarse."
"Probably. Do you object? You asked for it."
"Not a bit. I don't mind your telling me any thing that's a fact. Bad thoughts are different, but facts, good or bad, coarse or refined, are the stuff the world's made of, and why should we shut our eyes to them? I like to take life as it comes without expurgation. Lawrence, Lizzie never had any children, did she?"
"By me?"
"Yes."
"No, our married life didn't last long. I should have warned you, my dear, if I had had any responsibilities of that description."