“It’s only what helps you now. You don’t seem to be a bit ambitious, René.”
“Would you like me to be?”
“But you’re so clever and everybody else is so stupid. It seems so funny of you to be so pleased with anything you can get.”
“Funny?” He could hardly grasp what she meant. She went on:
“You’re so good-looking, too. I shouldn’t be surprised if you got on and married somebody who was—well, you know.”
There was a strain of bitterness in his mother which could infuriate him. To-night he was so happy with her that it made him only sad, and he said gently:
“I don’t think I’m the sort that gets on. I say things—in letters, you know.”
“But I’d like to see you well off and married to some really nice girl.”
“And I’d like to see the girl who could make me give up the idea of living in the country with you.”
“I’ll come and stay with you.”