“It was perhaps my fault. While you talked I was only making our plans. Even now she was dazed. Talked about his years, his position and his constituents, and always sneaked off back to his hotel just when the fun was going to begin. ’ ‘That depends, that does,’ said Trodger guardedly. Then he had gone away. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where he was. The times were such that, with the opinions he entertained, he could not remain idle.
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