“She’s always doubtful of doing, doubtful of action: she has no will. So she is fatalistic, and an argument between us ends in her submitting, as if she must submit to me, because I’m overbearing, instead of accepting the fact.”
“She feels your influence.”
“She’s against the publication of THE DAWN—for the present. It’s an ‘unseasonable time.’ I argue with her: I don’t get hold of her mind a bit; but at last she says, ‘very well.’ She has your head.”
And you have her heart, Lydiard could have rejoined.
They said good-bye, neither of them aware of the other’s task of endurance.
As they were parting, Beauchamp perceived his old comrade Jack Wilmore walking past.
“Jack!” he called.
Wilmore glanced round. “How do you do, Beauchamp?”
“Where are you off to, Jack?”
“Down to the Admiralty. I’m rather in a hurry; I have an appointment.”