"First of all, I want you to understand that I know that there can be no change in, no development, no outcome of—our friendship," Judith resumed slowly. "And I want you to know that I am—content that it should be so. My life has been full of—much that many women miss. I had Jack, my husband. I have the Imps. I have Uncle Bond. And I have—you.
"Your—friendship—has become very precious to me, Alfred. When you first came here, I liked you, I think, because you reminded me of Jack. It was the sea, and the Navy, of course. The sea, and the Navy, mark a man, don't they? They give him a certain style, and stamp. But that was only a superficial, surface resemblance, of course. I had not known you very long before I realized that you were quite unlike Jack.
"Jack was simple, a boy, a dear. He was a splendid man, physically. At sea, he could sail anything that would float. He had no idea of fear. He did his duty. He obeyed orders. He never questioned anything. Life to him was always plain and straightforward. He always saw his way, like the course of his ship, clear before him. He never had a real trouble, or doubt. He was happy, even in his death. You know how he led the destroyers into action, and sank an enemy ship, before he went down himself? I—loved him. But I loved him, as I love the Imps. When he was at home, on shore, with me, I used to feel that I had three boys to look after—
"You are different. Your mind works all the time. You doubt, you question, everything. You see all round things to which Jack would never have given a thought. Your brain is always active—too active. Life to you is always complex, puzzling. You live more, and harder, in a day, in your brain, than Jack did in a year. It was when I began to understand what was going on in the brain, behind your tired blue eyes, that I learnt—to love you. Jack had no imagination. You have—too much imagination. I loved Jack. But you—you could carry me off my feet—
"That is just what happened last night. I want you to understand about last night, Alfred. It is important that you should understand about last night, I think. A good deal of your trouble, of your bewilderment, and uncertainty, today, is because of last night, I believe. And it may—happen again.
"I have always been very careful with you—until last night. I know that I—attract you. At one time, I was afraid that that might interfere with, that it might spoil, our friendship. But, as I came to know you better, as I came to understand the hold, the control, you have over yourself, I began to realize that it was not you, but myself, that I had to fear. I was very careful. I watched myself. And then, last night, after all, I failed you—
"But you had just been Crowned! And, after your Coronation, after all that you had been through, you got away, as soon as you could, to come and see me! That in itself was—a tribute—which no woman could have resisted, I think. And you were different. Your Coronation has made a difference, Alfred. And you were wearing the King's colours. You remember that? And you talked about the King needing all his friends. And, somehow, just for the moment, I wanted you to trust me, to give me the whole of your confidence. I have always wanted your confidence. And then—I was afraid. And I took you in to the Imps for safety. And their crowns were there. And I couldn't resist playing with fire. And you picked up Button's crown. And I felt all your thought—bitter, ironic, painful thoughts. I am much more responsive to your moods than you realize, I think. And I wanted to comfort you. And I looked at you. And you saw what I felt—
"It was just as if I had said, all the things which we have always left unsaid, wasn't it? It was just as if I had shouted aloud, all the things which we have always been so careful to ignore. It—troubled you—then. It troubles you still. It will be a long time, before I shall be able to forgive myself, for what happened last night—
"I have always wanted to help you, to serve you, to make things easier for you, you see—not to add to your difficulties. But we have helped you, Uncle Bond, and I, and the Imps, haven't we! It has been good for you to come here, to us, in Paradise, for rest, and quiet, and peace, hasn't it? There is an old fairy story about a man who was haunted by his shadow, that the Imps are very fond of, that I have always connected with you, in my own mind. You are haunted by your shadow, aren't you? You are haunted by the shadow of your rank, of your position, of your responsibility. But you have always been able to forget your shadow here with us—until last night—haven't you? It has always been waiting for you, when you went away in the morning, you picked it up again in the lane, on your way back to town, I know. But, while you were here, you never saw your shadow, until last night, did you?"
"It has always been just like that," the King murmured. "With you, I have always been able to live, in the present moment—"