"Well, anyhow I've done my best to give you the idea," said Mr. Direck. "I seem now to have been doing that pretty nearly all the time." "Only what should we do?" Mr. Direck felt this question was singularly artless. "Why!--we'd marry," he said. "And all that sort of thing." "Letty has married--and all that sort of thing," said Cecily, fixing her eye on him very firmly because she was colouring brightly. "And it doesn't leave Letty very much--forrader." "Well now, they have a good time, don't they? I'd have thought they have a lovely time!" "They've had a lovely time. And Teddy is the dearest husband. And they have a sweet little house and a most amusing baby. And they play hockey every Sunday. And Teddy does his work. And every week is like every other week. It is just heavenly. Just always the same heavenly. Every Sunday there is a fresh week of heavenly beginning. And this, you see, isn't heaven; it is earth. And they don't know it but they are getting bored. I have been watching them, and they are getting dreadfully bored. It's heart-breaking to watch, because they are almost my dearest people. Teddy used to be making perpetual jokes about the house and the baby and his work and Letty, and now--he's made all the possible jokes. It's only now and then he gets a fresh one. It's like spring flowers and then--summer. And Letty sits about and doesn't sing. They want something new to happen.... And there's Mr. and Mrs. Britling. They love each other. Much more than Mrs. Britling dreams, or Mr. Britling for the matter of that. Once upon a time things were heavenly for them too, I suppose. Until suddenly it began to happen to them that nothing new ever happened...." "Well," said Mr. Direck, "people can travel." "But that isn't _real_ happening," said Cecily. "It keeps one interested." "But real happening is doing something."