He hurts little and cheers a lot. He could
make a convincing argument in favour of civilisation's return to
cannibalism, but really, you know, he spends most of his time thinking and
writing of washing machines and ladies' hats and liver pills, and most of
his eloquence after all only comes down to 'Send for catalogue, Department
K' in the end."
Sue's voice was colourless with passion when she replied.
"This is unbearable. Why did you bring the fellow here?"
Sam sat down and picked up his book. In his impatience he lied to her for
the first time since their marriage.
"First, because I like him and second, because I wanted to see if I
couldn't produce a man who could outsentimentalise your socialist
friends," he said quietly.
Sue turned and walked out of the room. In a way the action was final and
marked the end of understanding between them. Putting down his book Sam
watched her go and some feeling he had kept for her and that had
differentiated her from all other women died in him as the door closed
between them. Throwing the book aside he sprang to his feet and stood
looking at the door.
"The old goodfellowship appeal is dead," he thought. "From now on we will
have to explain and apologise like two strangers.
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