‘You know; I don’t agree with you at all about Beauty and Poetry—and—all
that sort of thing. I think perhaps I let you think this afternoon
that I did agree.’
It sounded foolish even as I said it, and it was not even what
I wanted to say.
He said very quietly:
‘I know that. You are the other side of life—all that I have
not got, and don’t understand. I know I am one-sided. I would
like to be different if I could.’
My heart began to thump. I had not realized that he would talk
like that, yet. I was not ready. I wanted to go inside and shut
the door, but I couldn’t shut the door while he stood there.
The rain was falling faster now, and as I moved my head a little
stream of water ran off the brim of my hat, down my neck.