She moved away, and began hunting for a piece of music, so that her back was to him.
"Did you ever think," she said, "of settling down in Ireland? You 're Irish, you know.
"And it's not a bad place," she went on before he answered. "It's a sort of sportsman's paradise. Fishing and hunting and race-courses. And sailing. And if you get tired you can run over to London, or Paris, or Madrid.
"Oh, damn!" she said, "I can't find that thing at all!" She was trembling from head to heel. "Why don't you marry some nice Irish girl and settle down?"
"Oh, I could n't settle down in Ireland."
"No?"
"There 's my work to do."
"But you just said you were rich."
"That's no excuse for not working."
"I thought—I don't know."