I wanted to defend Hugo even from him. It was not Strindberg we were talking about. We both knew that.
I said:
‘I think it is a mistake to say that. One can’t choose for other people. Hugo knows what he wants.’
‘No,’ said George shortly. ‘He doesn’t. That’s the trouble.’
He glanced up at me, and away again into the fire.
‘We must be patient with Hugo,’ he said in a different tone. ‘He takes a long time to understand things sometimes, but he does understand in the end.’
‘I think perhaps he understands too much,’ I said, and wished I had not said it.
XVII
And then, that Christmas, I met Walter again.
We were on a walking tour along the Roman Wall, Guy and Hugo and the Addingtons and Sophia and I. We had begun at Hexham, and we walked along the wall towards Carlisle. It was on the fourth day that we met Walter, in the camp at Howstead.