“Have a shot at Josephine, apparently.”
“Really? Is he in love with her? I thought so. And she likes him too, doesn't she?” said Tanny.
“Very likely,” said Jim.
“I suppose you're jealous,” laughed Tanny.
“Me!” Jim shook his head. “Not a bit. Like to see the ball kept rolling.”
“What have you been doing lately?”
“Been staying a few days with my wife.”
“No, really! I can't believe it.”
Jim had a French wife, who had divorced him, and two children. Now he was paying visits to this wife again: purely friendly. Tanny did most of the talking. Jim excited her, with his way of looking in her face and grinning wolfishly, and at the same time asking to be saved.
After tea, he wanted to send telegrams, so Lilly took him round to the village post-office. Telegrams were a necessary part of his life. He had to be suddenly starting off to keep sudden appointments, or he felt he was a void in the atmosphere. He talked to Lilly about social reform, and so on. Jim's work in town was merely nominal. He spent his time wavering about and going to various meetings, philandering and weeping.