He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. ” She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought her to: “What’s the good of pretending? “I love him,” she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. ” Courtlaw was pale and dishevelled. “I don’t know. And Miss Miniver began to sway her.
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