He shrugged his shoulders, and rejected two papers unread.
“I knew,” he remarked, “when you came back from America. You were alight with it.” Then he let his bitterness gleam for a moment. “But I thought you would stick to your bargain.”
“It's not so much choice as you think,” I said.
“There's always a choice.”
“No,” I said.
He scrutinised my face.
“I can't live without her—I can't work. She's all mixed up with this—and everything. And besides, there's things you can't understand. There's feelings you've never felt.... You don't understand how much we've been to one another.”
Britten frowned and thought.
“Some things one's GOT to do,” he threw out.
“Some things one can't do.”