"They will come, surely!" she said. "If you are quite sincere, sincere with yourself always and sincere with others as often as is possible."
"You're right about its not being possible to be always sincere with others."
She smiled.
"They simply wouldn't let you!"
"No," he said. "I feel as if I could be rather sincere with you sometimes."
"Yes, I think so. We do get on, don't we?"
"Yes, we do."
"I often wonder why. But we do. I'll move the table if you've really finished."
He put the table away and sat down on the settle beside her, at the far end. And he turned, leaning his back against the upright end, and stretching one arm along the wooden top, on which his long fingers restlessly closed.