«Bradley, I hear-«
«What time is it?»
«Four o'clock. I hear you're coming round this evening to see Priscilla.»
«Yes.»
«Well, could I see you after that? There's something important I want to tell you.»
«Yes. Fine. What's a conversation pit?»
«What?»
«What's a conversation pit?»
«A sunken area in a room where you put cushions and people sit and converse.»
«What's the point of it?»
«It has no point.»
«Oh Arnold, Arnold-«What?»
«Nothing. I'll read your books. I'll start to like them. Everything will be different.»
«Have you got softening of the brain?»
«Good-bye, goodbye-I returned to the sitting-room and I picked up the Shakespeares from the floor and I sat down in the armchair and I said to her in my heart, I will suffer, you will not. We will do each other no harm. You will cause me pain, it cannot be otherwise. But I shall cause you none. And I will feed upon my pain like one who feeds on kisses. (Oh God.) I am simply happy that you exist, happy in the absolute that is you, proud to live with you in the same city, in the same century, to see you occasionally, seldom…
The telephone rang. I reached it. This time it was Julian.
«Oh Bradley, hello, it's me.»
I made some sort of sound.
«Bradley-sorry-it's me-you know, Julian Baffin.»
I said, «Hold on a minute, would you?» I covered the mouthpiece and closed my eyes tightly, groped for a chair, panting, trying to control my breath. In a few moments I said, coughing a little to disguise the tremor, «Sorry. The kettle was just boiling.»
«I'm so sorry to bother you, Bradley. I promise I won't become a pest, always ringing up and coming round.»
«Not at all.»
«I just wondered if I could pick up my Hamlet whenever you've finished with it.»
«Certainly.»
«But there's no hurry at all-any time in the next fortnight would do. I'm not working on that at the moment. And there's one or two more questions I've thought of. If you like I could send them by post, and you could post me the book. I don't want to interrupt your work.»
