him this morning that you thought his work was 'sentimental.' «
«Rachel, I've been thinking,» I said. (I had not in fact, it had just come into my head.) «I may be being completely unjust to Arnold. It's years since I read the whole of his work, I must read it all through again, I may see it quite differently now. You like Arnold's novels, don't you?»
«I'm his wife. And I'm a totally uneducated woman, as my dear daughter never tires of telling me. But look, I don't want to talk about these things. I want to say-well, first of all forgive me for bothering you again. You'll begin to think I'm a neurotic woman with a fixation.»
«Never, my dear Rachel! I'm so glad to see you. And what a pretty dress! How charming you look!»
«Yes, my dearest creature.»
«You said some very kind and probably very wise things last time we met about friendship. I feel I was rather churlish-«Not at all.»
«I want to say now that I accept and need your friendship. I also want to say-it's hard to find the words-I'd be wretched if I felt you just saw me as a desperate middle-aged harpy trying to pull someone into bed to spite her husband-«I assure you-«It's not like that, Bradley. There's something I feel I didn't make absolutely clear. I wasn't just looking for a man to console me after a married row-«You did make it clear-«It could only have been you. We've known each other for centuries. But it's only lately come to me-how much I really care about you. You're a very special person in my life. I esteem you and admire you and rely on you and-well, I love you. That's what I wanted to say.»
«Rachel, what a delightful thing, it's made my day!»
«Be serious for a moment, Bradley.»
«I am serious, my dear. People should love each other more in simple ways, I've always felt this. Why can't we just comfort each other more? One tends to live at a sort of level of anxiety and resentment where one's protecting oneself all the time. Climb above it, climb above it, and feel free to love! That's the message. I know in my relations with Arnold-«Never mind your relations with Arnold. This is about me. I want-I must be a bit drunk-let me put it crudely-I want a special relationship with you.»
«You've got it!»
«Be quiet. I don't want an affair, not because I don't want an affair, maybe I do, it's not worth finding out, but because it would be a mess and belong with all that anxiety and resentment you were talking about, anyway you haven't got the guts or temperament or whatever for an affair, but Bradley, I want you.»
«You've got me!»
«Oh don't be so gay and flippant, you look so horribly pleased with yourself, what's the matter?»
«I wish I could hold you to some sort of seriousness, you're so terribly sort of slippery today. Bradley, this matters so much-you will love me, you will be faithful?»
«Yes!»
«A real true friend to me forever?»
«Yes, yes!»
«I don't know-thank you-all right-You're looking at your watch, you must go to your lunch date. I'll stay here and-think-and-drink. Thank you, thank you.»
The last I saw of her, through the window as I went off, she was staring at the table and very slowly making patterns in the beer drips with her finger. Her face had a heavy sullen dreamy remembering look which was very touching.
Hartbourne asked after Christian. He had known her slightly. The news of her return must have somehow got around. I talked about her frankly and at ease. Yes, I had seen her. She was much improved, not only in looks. We were on quite good terms, very civilized. And Priscilla? She had left her husband and was staying with Christian,
