Part 23 (1/2)
”Are we really going to follow up Mr. Bast?”
”I don't know.”
”I think we won't.”
”As you like.”
”It's no good, I think, unless you really mean to know people. The discussion brought that home to me. We got on well enough with him in a spirit of excitement, but think of rational intercourse. We mustn't play at friends.h.i.+p. No, it's no good.”
”There's Mrs. Lanoline, too,” Helen yawned. ”So dull.”
”Just so, and possibly worse than dull.”
”I should like to know how he got hold of your card.”
”But he said--something about a concert and an umbrella.”
”Then did the card see the wife--”
”Helen, come to bed.”
”No, just a little longer, it is so beautiful. Tell me; oh yes; did you say money is the warp of the world?”
”Yes.”
”Then what's the woof?”
”Very much what one chooses,” said Margaret. ”It's something that isn't money--one can't say more.”
”Walking at night?”
”Probably.”
”For Tibby, Oxford?”
”It seems so.”
”For you?”
”Now that we have to leave Wickham Place, I begin to think it's that.
For Mrs. Wilc.o.x it was certainly Howards End.”
One's own name will carry immense distances. Mr. Wilc.o.x, who was sitting with friends many seats away, heard this, rose to his feet, and strolled along towards the speakers.
”It is sad to suppose that places may ever be more important than people,” continued Margaret.
”Why, Meg? They're so much nicer generally. I'd rather think of that forester's house in Pomerania than of the fat Herr Forstmeister who lived in it.”
”I believe we shall come to care about people less and less, Helen. The more people one knows the easier it becomes to replace them. It's one of the curses of London. I quite expect to end my life caring most for a place.”