Or say, if you like, of indolent habit, which after all often passes for the same thing. Then of course I was in love—I am still. One drifted. It’s so easy to give way in little things—really not unpleasant when you’re in love. And then there’s one’s work, which fills the mind and makes the little things appear smaller than they are. I say one drifted.
Gunning.
Sometimes, if I know you, you rebelled. What then?
Parbury.
[Promptly.] Tears! And over such absurdly paltry things! Oh, the farcical tragedy of it all! I wished to go shooting for a few days. Tears! I fancied dining and spending the evening with an old chum. Tears! I would go on a walking tour for a week. Tears! Some one would ask me for three days’ hunting. Tears! Tears, you understand, always on hand. Tears—tears—tears ad—— [Pulling himself up.] No.
Gunning.
[Quietly.] No—not ad nauseam.
Parbury.
No, that would be too low a thing to say.