» 'Love,'
'in love.' «
«I think that's silly. But while we've got eyes I suppose we can give words a rest. Look. Can't you see what you won't name?»
«Please. I honestly think we shouldn't define this thing at all. We must just be quiet and patient and see what happens.»
«You sound so anxious.»
«I'm terrified.»
«I'm not. I've never felt braver in my life. What are you afraid of? And why did you say we were in a fix? What fix are we in?»
«I'm very much older than you are. Very much. That's the fix.»
«Oh that. That's simply a convention. It doesn't touch us at all.»
«It does touch us,» I said. I felt its touch.
«Is that all you meant?»
I hesitated. «Yes.» There was much that I would have some day to lay before her. But not today.
«It's not-«Oh Julian, you don't know me, you don't know me-«It's not Christian?»
«What? Christian? God no!»
«Thank heaven. You know, Bradley, when I heard my father talking about bringing you and Christian together I felt such a pang-and that was before-perhaps that began to make me realize how I really felt about you-«Like Emma and Mr. Knightly.»
«A pillar in the desert.»
«And I was worrying about Christian last night too-«
«No, no, Chris is a nice person and I don't even hate her any more, but she's nothing to me. You have let me out of so many cages. I'll tell you-later-in the time-that we've got.»
«Well, if it's not that, the age business doesn't matter a pin, lots of girls prefer older men. So everything's quite clear and plain. I didn't say anything to my parents last night or this morning, as I wanted to be sure you hadn't changed. But I'll tell them today-«Wait a minute! What'll you say to them?»
«That I love you and want to marry you.»
«Julian! It's impossible! Julian, I'm older than you think-«Older than the rocks among which you sit. Yes, yes, we know that!»
«It's impossible.»
«Bradley, you aren't making any sense. Why do you look like that? You do really love me, don't you? You don't just want a love affair and then goodbye?»
«No-I really love you-«Isn't that something forever?»
«Yes. Real love is about forever-and this is real love-but-«But what?»
«You said we'd move slowly and get to know each other slowly-all this has happened so fast-I'm sure you shouldn't-in any way commit yourself-«I don't mind committing myself. That won't stop us being slow and patient and all that. Anyway, we already know each other, I've known you all my life, you're my Mr. Knightly, and the age gap there-«
«Julian, I think we must keep this thing secret for a while «Why?»
» «Because you may change your mind.»
«Or because you may?»
«I won't. But you don't know me, you can't. And I'm more than old enough to be your father.»
«Do you think I care-?»
«No, but society does and you will one day. You'll see me getting older-«
«Bradley, that's soft.»
«I'd very much rather you didn't tell your parents at present.»
«All right,» she said, after a pause, drawing apart from me, kneeling there, her face suddenly childish with doubt.
The shadow between us was unbearable to me. If I was embarked upon this thing let me be embarked. I would have to trust myself completely to her sense of truth, even to her naivety, even to her inexperience, even to her foolishness. I said, «My perfect darling, you, must do whatever you feel is right to do. I leave it entirely to you. I love you absolutely and I trust you absolutely and what will be will be.»
«You think the parents won't like it?»
«They'll hate it.»
After that we talked a bit more about Christian and about my marriage and about Priscilla. We talked about Julian's childhood and the times when we had been together. We talked about when I might have started to love her, and about when she might have started to love me. We did not talk about the future. We continued to sit upon the floor like shy animals, like children, stroking each other's hands and each other's hair. We kissed, not often. I sent her away about midday. I felt we should not exhaust each other. We needed to brood and to recover. Of course there was no question of going to bed.
«You don't quite understand,» I said. «I am not proposing to go away.»
Rachel and Arnold were occupying the two armchairs in my sitting-room. I was sitting on Julian's chair beside the window. There was a murky cloudy light and I had just turned the lamps on. It was the same day, late afternoon.
«What do you propose to do then?» said Arnold.
He had telephoned. Then he and Rachel had arrived. They had, there is no other word for it, marched in. Their presence was like that of an occupying army. To confront familiar people who are suddenly unsmiling and tense with anger and shock is very frightening. I felt frightened. I knew they would «hate it.» But I had not expected this big united hostile will. Their sheer incredulity, feigned or otherwise, silenced me, put me to flight. I could explain nothing and felt that I was creating some entirely false impression.
Also I knew that I was not only seeming but also feeling appallingly guilty.
«To stay here,» I said, «see a bit of the girl, I suppose-«You mean lead her on?» said Rachel.
«To act naturally, get to know her better-After all we-love each other, it appears-and-«Bradley, get back to reality,» said Arnold. «Stop blithering. You're in some sort of dream world at the moment. You're nearly sixty. Julian is twenty. She said at the start that you'd told her your age and that she didn't mind, but you can't mean to take advantage of a sentimental schoolgirl who is flattered by your attentions-«She's not a schoolgirl,» I said.
«She's very immature,» said Rachel, «and very easily taken in, and-«
«I am not taking her in! I've told her that the age difference makes this thing practically impossible-«It makes it entirely impossible,» said Arnold.
«She said the most extraordinary things this afternoon,» said Rachel. «I can't think what you can have been saying to her.»