“Well, you see, I refused him before,” she began slowly. “He wouldn’t combine with what I was doing and I wouldn’t give it up——” She stopped, and Cyril poured himself out a glass of whiskey. “Have some?” he asked.
“Now you know, dear, that is silly,” said Teresa. “I don’t want to take to drink because I am going to be married—— Oh, father, what is that? Something is bothering me—is there a wind or something? It was quite still when I came back.”
Cyril hesitated a moment and then said, “You’re not the woman your mother is. She thought me very foolish—I am not sure she didn’t say very wrong—for spending the night in the Turkish bath when you were born. I should be there now if you weren’t at home, but if you are going to sit there behaving like some damned fox-terrier whenever a door opens I shall have to get out the car and drive you round till we both freeze.”
“All right,” she said. “I am sorry, but I didn’t know what it was. I just felt creepy.”
They heard the front door slam.
“That’s the doctor,” said Cyril. “Now you can go ahead. The pilot is on board and a tot of rum will be served to all those in favour. I wish you would have some.”
“No, I am going to have tea presently,” she said. “I do wish you wouldn’t interrupt. I was going to tell you why I changed my mind.”
“Yes?” he said, encouragingly.
“Let’s see. You see, the thing is like this. I think David started with the same idea that I did and I don’t know exactly what happened but he found that he hadn’t enough brains for argument, so he studied fox-hunting which he had always had a passion for, only he got slightly mixed like I did about people who live in towns. He is really very sensitive about cruelty, and his father gave him such a lot of money at college that when he found anyone who wanted it he gave like anything; and when you have once begun doing that in person, not just by subscription, it is very difficult not to feel that you ought to be earning some instead. But anyhow that is what he did. And then he had to go to Aldwych to help his father who wasn’t well, and then he got interested in the land and he met some people who wanted experiments done—I forget what in—and who couldn’t afford to do them; and, it is very odd, but he seems to find out more by common sense than I ever should by working and working at an idea, trying to make it fit whatever happens, because it never does. As soon as one stops worrying and works at whatever one can do best, the idea one had tried to fit on to all sorts of contradictions seems suddenly to grow up out of the middle of one’s work, with a root fastened to all the different things it wouldn’t fit before. It is impossible to explain but I assure you you would have found that happen if you had ever had an idea of any sort or done any work.”
“I should like to direct your next piece of purposeless labour to respecting the forces of the Crown a little if you can,” said Cyril. “I’m damned! No ideas and no work! Do you know who I am? I suppose your mother is right. Marriage does mean something to a girl.”