At that name he suddenly stopped and was silent.
“Well?” said Philip. “What about Katherine?... Have some more whisky.... Waiter, coffee.”
“I want to do something,” said Henry, “to make Katherine proud of me. I know it must be horrible for her to have a brother whom everyone laughs at. It’s partly because of her that I’m so shy. But she understands me as none of the others do. She knows I’ve got something in me. She believes in me. She’s the only one.... I can talk to her. She understands when I say that I want to do something in the world. She doesn’t laugh. And I’d die for her.... Here, now, if it was necessary. And I’ll tell you one thing. I didn’t like you at first. When you got engaged to Katherine I hated it until I saw that she’d probably have to be engaged to someone, and it might as well be you.”
“Thank you,” said Philip, laughing.
“I saw how happy you made her. It’s hard on all of us who’ve known her so long, but we don’t mind that ... if you do make her happy.”
“So,” said Philip, “it’s only by the family’s permission that I can keep her?”
“Oh, you know what I mean,” said Henry. “Of course she’s her own mistress. She can do what she likes. But she is fond of us. And I don’t think—if it came to it—that she’d ever do anything to hurt us.”
“If it came to what?” said Philip.
But Henry shook his head. “Oh! I’m only talking. I meant that we’re fonder of one another as a family than people outside can realise. We don’t seem to be if you watch us, but if it came to pulling us apart—to—to—taking Katherine away, for instance, it—it wouldn’t be easy.”
“Another soda, waiter,” said Philip. “But I don’t want to take Katherine away. I don’t want there to be any difference to anyone.”