“Yes, I am annoyed,” replied Helen. “My wishes should have been respected. I would have gone through this meeting if it was necessary, but after Aunt Juley recovered, it was not necessary. Planning my life, as I now have to do—”
“Come away from those books,” called Margaret. “Helen, do talk to me.”
“I was just saying that I have stopped living haphazard. One can’t go through a great deal of”—she missed out the noun—“without planning one’s actions in advance. I am going to have a child in June, and in the first place conversations, discussions, excitement, are not good for me. I will go through them if necessary, but only then. In the second place I have no right to trouble people. I cannot fit in with England as I know it. I have done something that the English never pardon. It would not be right for them to pardon it. So I must live where I am not known.”
“But why didn’t you tell me, dearest?”
“Yes,” replied Helen judicially. “I might have, but decided to wait.”
“ I believe you would never have told me.”
“Oh yes, I should. We have taken a flat in Munich.”
Margaret glanced out of window.
“By ‘we’ I mean myself and Monica. But for her, I am and have been and always wish to be alone.”
“I have not heard of Monica.”