Hugo came back from India in June.
He came to see me one morning, soon after he got back.
I was upstairs, tidying a cupboard. I had an overall on, and
was dusty. When Louise came to tell me that he was there, I was
surprised, for I did not know he had come home. I wondered if
I was pleased to see him or not; I did not know; I went downstairs
to the dining-room. The drawing-room was being turned out, and
we could not go in there.
We sat down on each side of the dining-room table. There were
wild roses, in a glass vase on the table, and the water in the
vase was cloudy. I had meant to change the water that morning,
and had forgotten. I hoped Hugo would not notice the water; I
thought he would. I wished we had not to be in the dining-room
where the sideboard was, that Hugo did not like. I did not know
what to say to Hugo; he seemed so far away; so long ago.
Hugo said:
‘I came back on Tuesday.’