'Dick has been imploring me for twenty years to take life flippantly. I have learnt at last that things are only grave if you take them gravely, and that is desperately stupid. It's so hard to be serious without being absurd. That is the chief power of women, that life and death for them are merely occasions for a change of costume, marriage a creation in white, and the worship of God an opportunity for a Paris bonnet.' Julia saw that he was determined to keep the conversation on a level of amiable persiflage, and with her lively sense of the ridiculous she could hardly repress a smile at the heaviness of his hand. Through all that he said pierced the bitterness of his heart, and his every word was contradicted by the vehemence of his tortured voice. She was determined, too, that the interview which she had brought about, uncomfortable as it had been to all of them, should not be brought to nothing; characteristically she went straight to the point. She stood up. 'I'm sure you two have things to say to one another that you would like to say alone.' She saw Alec's eyes grow darker as he saw himself cornered, but she was implacable. 'I have some letters to send off by the American mail, and I want Dick to look over them to see that I've spelt _honour_ with a u and _traveller_ with a double l.' Neither Alec nor Lucy answered, and the determined little woman took her husband firmly away. When they were left alone, neither spoke for a while. 'I've just realised that you didn't know I was coming to-day,' said Lucy at last. 'I had no idea that you were being entrapped. I would never have consented to that.' 'I'm very glad to have an opportunity of saying good-bye to you,' he answered. He preserved the conversational manner of polite society, and it seemed to Lucy that she would never have the strength to get beyond. 'I'm so glad that Dick and Julia are happily married. They're very much in love with one another.' 'I should have thought love was the worst possible foundation for marriage,' he answered. 'Love creates illusions, and marriage destroys them. True lovers should never marry.' Again silence fell upon them, and again Lucy broke it. 'You're going away to-morrow?' 'I am.' She looked at him, but he would not meet her eyes. He went over to the window and looked out upon the busy street. 'Are you very glad to go?' 'You can't think what a joy it is to look upon London for the last time. I long for the infinite surface of the clean and comfortable sea.' Lucy gave a stifled sob. Alec started a little, but he did not move. He still looked down upon the stream of cabs and 'buses, lit by the misty autumn sun. 'Is there no one you regret to leave, Alec?'