Dick gave a little snort of comic rage.
'And it also gave you a ghastly pleasure in doing things that hurt you. Oh, if you'd only been born in the Middle Ages, what a fiendish joy you would have taken in mortifying your flesh, and in denying yourself everything that makes life so good to live! You're never thoroughly happy unless you're making yourself thoroughly miserable.'
'Each time I come back to England I find that you talk more and greater nonsense, Dick,' returned Alec drily.
'I'm one of the few persons now alive who can talk nonsense,' answered his friend, laughing. 'That's why I'm so charming. Everyone else is so deadly earnest.'
He settled himself down to make a deliberate speech.
'I deplore the strenuousness of the world in general. There is an idea abroad that it is praiseworthy to do things, and what they are is of no consequence so long as you do them. I hate the mad hurry of the present day to occupy itself. I wish I could persuade people of the excellence of leisure.'
'One could scarcely accuse you of cultivating it yourself,' said Lucy, smiling.
Dick looked at her for a moment thoughtfully.
'Do you know that I'm hard upon forty?'
'With the light behind, you might still pass for thirty-two,' interrupted Mrs. Crowley.