"Why not?" His eyes suddenly glowered again.
But she answered him with absolute calmness. "Because if you mean it, it's wrong—very wrong. And if you don't mean it, it's just foolish."
"Oh!" said Robin. He edged himself nearer to her. "I like you," he said.
"Talk some more! I like your voice."
"What shall I talk about?" she asked.
"Tell me about London!" he said.
"Oh, London! My dear boy, you'd hate London. It's all noise and crowds and dust. The streets are crammed with cars and people and there is never any peace. It's like a great wheel that is never still."
"What do the people do?" he asked.
"They just tear about from morning till night, and very often from night till morning. Everyone is always trying to be first and to be a little smarter than anyone else. They think they enjoy it." Juliet drew a sudden hard breath. "But they really don't. It's such a whirl, such a strain, like always running at top speed in a race and never getting there. Yes, it's just that—a sort of obstacle race, and the obstacles always getting higher and higher and higher." She stopped and uttered a deep slow sigh. "Well, I've done with it, Robin. I'm not going to get over any more. I've dropped out. I'm going to grow old in comfort."
Robin was listening with deep interest. "Is that why you came here?" he said.
"Yes. I was tired out and rather scared. I got away just in time—only just in time."