Margaret: We didn’t. We walked in the other direction for a week. Then we came back to London.
Frankie: And then?
Margaret: Then he fell in love with another girl. I daresay he taught her what he taught me. That seems to be his mission in life!
Frankie (indignant): That’s what always happens—weren’t you furious and ashamed?
Margaret: I was awfully pleased with myself! I was living in a boarding-house in Bloomsbury. I couldn’t afford a room of my own, or to go out in the evenings. I used to have to sit in the drawing-room with a lot of old spinster ladies, knitting and playing patience and talking scandal. Before the Lakes, I used to think I should go mad, sometimes; but afterwards, when I looked round at them all, there was a sort of triumphant glee in me. I used to say to myself, “I know more about life than you do. Poor old things!”
Gwen: That must have been topping.
Margaret: It was rather.
Gwen: ... Who was the next?
Margaret: I fell in love; so it’s not easy to talk about. I lived with him. For three years. The best time of my life. That’s all.
Gwen: D’you mind my asking?