[XI]
THUS Lewis realized that Irene, with all her pride, could not resist him. He thought "They say that modern women cannot find men; they will always find plenty to make love to them, but what they won't find is the man who has time to sit beside them and put his arm round them and say: 'Why are you unhappy?'"
What puzzled him was that this melancholy conversation, with its hint of rebellion, should have occurred at the very moment when he first began to drift away from her. When we live in close intimacy with anyone, something more subtle than conscience tells us about him, and our actions, when they appear to us most inexplicable are often the result of a mysterious logic.
Irene and Lewis took up their life together again, but a strong barrier was growing up between them without their knowledge.
Irene never tried to check her thoughts:
"I don't think we shall ever succeed in being happy."
Lewis became exasperated:
"If I were as frank as you are we would have stopped being happy long ago; of course we'll be happy, we must be."
Then he took her hands in his and comforted her.
"Be patient. Don't live on the precious capital of your nerves. Life would be intolerable without sorrow. Would you like me to take you into Society? There are all kinds of quite new things to do there, all sorts of amusing or gorgeous sights which you have always refused to have anything to do with. People in the mass are a bore, but taken individually this is not so true. You are certainly not 'sociable,' as old ladies say; but there is no necessity for you to see old ladies. Won't you try a little pleasure?"