“You never told me that,” said Tom.
“He didn’t stay my best friend. I guess that’s why. I guess I was a better friend than he.”
“What makes you say that?” asked Cornelia.
“Well—it was natural. He was ten years older than I. He got married. He got a better job at the Arms factory just outside Town. We didn’t see each other so much after that. He sort of lost interest.”
Cornelia laughed. “I think that’s a little hard!” She did not want this word. She was sure “hard” was an ultimate wrong word for David Markand. She was vague in her misgiving. “Probably, his wife and—he had children? Well, they must have left him far less time.”
“It is not a question of time, is friendship?” David asked.
“Well, left him far less——” Why did Cornelia find this difficult? “Less emotion perhaps. I can understand that. With a wife and children.”
“It would not have made any difference with me,” said David simply.
Tom was leaning over. “Perhaps you don’t know what it means to have a wife and children.”
“I know what it ought to mean to have a friend.”