She Had Always Been An

Life Is Cruel And We Do Terrible Things To Each Other.

Once Outside The Magic Circle The Writers Became Their Lonely Selves, Pondering On Poems, Observing Their Fellow Men Ruthlessly, Putting People They Knew Into Novels; No Wonder They Were Without Friends.

I Realised That One Might Love Him Secretly With No Hope Of Encouragement, Which Can Be Very Enjoyable For The Young Or Inexperienced.

Perhaps There Can Be Too Much Making Of Cups Of Tea, I Thought, As I Watched Miss Statham Filling The Heavy Teapot. Did We Really Need A Cup Of Tea? I Even Said As Much To Miss Statham And She Looked At Me With A Hurt, Almost Angry Look, 'do We Need Tea? She Echoed. 'but Miss Lathbury...' She Sounded Puzzled And Distressed And I Began To Realise That My Question Had Struck At Something Deep And Fundamental. It Was The Kind Of Question That Starts A Landslide In The Mind. I Mumbled Something About Making A Joke And That Of Course One Needed Tea Always, At Every Hour Of The Day Or Night.

Oh, This Coming Back To An Empty House,' Rupert Thought, When He Had Seen Her Safely Up To Her Door. People - Though Perhaps It Was Only Women - Seemed To Make So Much Of It. As If Life Itself Were Not As Empty As The House One Was Coming Back To.