“Lorna, my dear, I can’t hear myself speak. These appallin’ motors and things don’t give me a minute’s peace. Why don’t the police do somethin’ about it? It is nice to have you here. I am shuttin’ the window, John, do you mind?”
No, he didn’t mind. Window shut, window open, you were boxed up just the same. They sat down, talking hard. Very long ago he remembered this woman at Noat, Greene’s mother, she had been tall and he had thought her nondescript. And now there was so much in her voice and in her hand. In this way one gained by being blind. But she was talking and her voice was fascinating.
“Do you remember when I was staying with you that time, Emily, and the minister came to tea, the yearly tea your father gave him? And how we put mustard into all the cakes he was fondest of, and he noticed nothing and ate them all, then stayed talking longer than he had ever done before, all about how the family were like the cedar in front of the house?”
“And what Solomon’s temple was made of . . .”
They were remembering, they all did.
“And oh, Lorna, do you remember . . .”
Mamma’s voice was quite different, as if it had suddenly leapt into youth again, it was so happy and excited. So London was a success with her, she was really enjoying herself for the first time! There was only himself out of it, all the others were in the swim.
“And Emily, when we fed the dog on chocolate and it was sick all over your father’s room, how furious he was!”
Oh, naughty, naughty! This happiness of theirs was exasperating. How ludicrous to think that, but he could not help it. And then all the time this Greene woman was speaking she seemed to be gibing at him. They had no life, they lived only in what was passed, while June and he had carved great slices out of the future when they had been together. June, at any rate, had always been there ready to come when she was wanted, but Margaret’s time was divided. Why couldn’t Mamma and he go out for their walk, but then she was so happy talking. There was no air now that they had shut the window, they had muffled the room so that they might muffle him the better with this talk of theirs. On and on it went, dragging one back just when one was beginning to strike out into new ground. He must plunge into the tumult outside and find a place for himself. He got up.