“Your deafness....” said Emily. “I gathered you were a bit deaf even before Melsie Ponting told me you were as deaf as a post. Tam said—‘Yes, and as slow as a Sunday post’—but I told him to shut up. It must be beastly being deaf because I suppose you feel that you seem stupid and that people get tired of talking to you. Why don’t you go to a doctor and all that? I always go to doctors the very minute I have a symptom—doctors are so awfully interested and lean forward when I talk about myself, which of course nobody else will ever do. Other people tiresomely begin talking about themselves as soon as I get going, but luckily doctors never do that. Tam is the only person I know who can talk successfully about himself, but then he is always perfectly happy about himself and talks of what happened when a vital button came off at his wedding, or how pleased somebody was to see him when he called, or why an Armenian mistook him for a Turk. And everybody listens with a poised smile on their lips, and when he has finished there is always a loud noise of success. Sure and happy people never fall flat. Edward, if you weren’t so sad-hearted, people would love you much more.” “That’s what happy-hearted people always say,” said Edward. “Happiness and sadness are not attributes and not moods. They are the foundations on which people are built. You can’t change your foundations.” “Well, if you are sad, your castle is built on sand. It is so safe to be well and truly laid on a happy and a rocky heart. Then even pain is nothing more than storms beating on the rock. When the storm goes down you are wet and perhaps a shade chipped but still safe.” “I am never safe,” said Edward. “Never safe for a second.” “Oh, I am so tired of talking about you and me, Edward dear,” said Emily sitting up. They were silent and Edward felt as if he were learning Emily’s face by heart and as if it were a lesson knowledge of which would be most urgently required of him some day. Her upper lip was thinner than the lower and, though the upper lip did not protrude beyond the lower at all, the effect of a little uptilted pout was produced by the line below her mouth which receded very definitely before jutting out to form a rather large round chin. Her nose was strong and rather broad, absolutely straight in profile and a little tilted. Tilted lines were necessary in her face to support her slanting thick black brows and the upward angle of her dark hair. She was smaller than most people and looked as if she were accustomed to putting her shoulders back and looking half defiantly up into the eyes of large, strong, delighted men.