“No, I was not. Yes, I was. I was about to say that success in life means many things. Material success I have had. There are other successes. I have by no means all I want.”
“And what else do you want? Immaterial success? I hardly know what that is; but one can’t be consistently wise.”
He laughed. “Oh, I am a fellow full of wants.”
“Do you get what you want, as a rule? I sometimes envy men the battles of their lives.”
“Yes, mostly I get what I want. When I want things, I so terribly want them that not to win is—is unpleasant.”
“Oh!” she cried, “did you see that salmon jump? I should like to be a salmon, just an hour, to know why they want the fly. They don’t want it to eat, do they?”
“No. But also we ourselves want many things which we can’t eat.”
She laughed outright, which is at times provoking when the face is invisible.
“It is my turn now,” he said. “What amuses you?”
“Nothing!” This was hardly true. She was mirthfully overcome at the idea of Carington as a salmon, and somebody casting a fly over that curly head. “Oh, nothing.”