Late in April, George and Elizabeth went to Hampton Court. They met at Waterloo about nine, went by train to Teddington, and walked through Bushey Park. Each had brought a frugal lunch, half because of poverty, half from some Pythagorean delusion about austerity in diet. They walked on the grass through the long elm naves. “How blue the sky is,” said Elizabeth, throwing back her head, and breathing the soft air. “Yes, and look how the elms make long Gothic arches!” “Yes, and do look at the young leaves, so shrill, so virginal a green.” “Yes, and yet you can still see the beautiful tree skeleton—youth and age.” “Yes, and the chestnut blossom will be out soon.” “Yes, and the young grass is— Oh Elizabeth, look, look! The deer! There’s two young ones.” “Where? Where are they? I can’t see them. I _want_ to see them!” “There they are! Look, look, running across to the right.” “Oh, yes! How funny the little ones are I But how graceful. How old are they?” “Only a few days I should think. Why are they so beautiful and young babies so hideous?” “I don’t know. They’re always supposed to look like their fathers, aren’t they?” “Touché—but I should think that would make the mothers hate them, and they love the little beasts.” “Not always. A friend of mine had a baby last year, and she didn’t want it when it was coming, but kept thinking she would love it when it came. And when she saw it, she simply loathed it, and they had to take it away. But she _made_ herself look after it. She says it’s ruined her life and she doesn’t find it a bit interesting, but now she’s fond of it and couldn’t bear it to die.” “Perhaps she didn’t love her husband.” “Oh, yes, she does. She simply dotes on him.” “Well, maybe it wasn’t his child.” “Oh! Oh!” Elizabeth slightly shocked. “It _was_ his child. But one reason why she didn’t like it was because it separated them.” “How long had they been married when the child was born?” “Oh, I don’t know—less than a year.” “Idiotic,” said George, banging the end of his walking stick on the ground, “Ab-so-lute-ly idiotic! Why the devil did they go and have a child bang off like that? Of course, she’s unhappy and they’re ‘separated.’ Serves ’em right.” “But could they help it? I mean—well, you know—it just happens, doesn’t it?” “Good Lord, Elizabeth, what a prehistoric notion! Of course it doesn’t ‘just happen.’ There are several ways...” “It seems a bit revolting?” “Not a bit! You may feel so because you’ve had mushy ideas about maidenly modesty and such twaddle instilled into you. That’s all part of the taboo. Now I think the really civilized thing is _not_ to let such things happen to us like animals, but to control them. It’s all most frightfully important, perhaps the most important problem for our generation to solve.” “But you surely don’t think everybody should give up having children?”