"But—you must—but we were all so quiet! I told Alice—"
"I never asked you to."
"No, but of course—but what have you been doing up there?"
"Reading Carlyle's French Revolution most of the time."
"Carlyle! You've been reading Carlyle!"
In her voice there was a sound of outrage. Claude got up and stood by the fire.
"It isn't my fault," he said. "The truth is I can't work in that room. I can't work in this house."
"But it's our home."
"I know, but I can't work in it. Perhaps it's because of the maids, knowing they're creeping about, wondering—I don't know what it is. I've tried, but I can't do anything."
"But—how dreadful! Nearly two months wasted!"