“Simply I tell you I will not go back to London.”
“You will go back with me, Cheetah.”
“I will go back as far as my work calls me there.”
“It calls you through the voice of your mate and slave and doormat to just exactly the sort of house you ought to have.... It is the privilege and duty of the female to choose the lair.”
For a space Benham made no reply. This controversy had been gathering for some time and he wanted to state his view as vividly as possible. The Benham style of connubial conversation had long since decided for emphasis rather than delicacy.
“I think,” he said slowly, “that this wanting to take London by storm is a beastly VULGAR thing to want to do.”
Amanda compressed her lips.
“I want to work out things in my mind,” he went on. “I do not want to be distracted by social things, and I do not want to be distracted by picturesque things. This life—it's all very well on the surface, but it isn't real. I'm not getting hold of reality. Things slip away from me. God! but how they slip away from me!”
He got up and walked to the side of the boat.
She surveyed his back for some moments. Then she went and leant over the rail beside him.