"But it is so. I see it, oh so clearly! And you don't worry about anything then--what anybody thinks or says or does or anything. You just take the funny old peepshow as it is. That's the way to live." "On an endless walking-tour?" "Why not, if you're in jolly places all the time?" "Siena? Nîmes? Trieste?" "Literal George!... But really, nothing matters. Everything except the present moment is meant to be forgotten. It's the only one you live in. In the past you're dead and in the future you aren't born yet--except him.... George----" "Hm?" "Girls nowadays _do_ have an awfully easy time!... You've only got to look at their clothes. We dressed down to our toes and up to our ears, and that meant we had to take a good deal of trouble about things. We had to make a little go a long way, so to speak--talk, and smile, and be amusing, and think what we said. If we didn't we were soon left out in the cold. But girls nowadays simply powder their shoulder blades and dress to their knees more or less, and that's all. Lots of 'em never open their mouths except to eat. They don't _do_ anything; they get there by _un_doing something.... But how boring for you, George. What does it matter as long as you do get there?" "I hope you'll think twice before you commit a very great folly," I said. She laughed. "No, no. I've finished thinking. It was one of my mother's maxims: 'Take care of your health and don't ever give way to serious thinking.' Don't you think it's rather good?" "I agree as far as your health's concerned." "Oh, the other too. She was a wise woman. I've only lately begun to realise how wise.... Ah, they're going in. Come along." She stood up in the punt to see whether Derry appeared on the balcony on his way to dress. At teatime I had a caller, a gentle old friend and neighbour of mine, Mrs Truscott. I saw her old-fashioned victoria standing in the drive as we reached the terrace. Derry was charming to the old lady; Julia--also charming, but with some subtle difference that I cannot explain. After tea Derry and Julia strolled off to see whether the rods had come from the blacksmith's yet, but they stopped to examine the victoria on the way. Mrs Truscott turned to me. "What an exceedingly handsome man! But surely she's a good deal older than he?" "Why do you couple them like that?" I asked. "Aren't they engaged?" "No." She smiled. "Not yet?" "Nor likely to be," I risked. She shook her head, so that her grey curls trembled about her cheeks. "Ah, you bachelors, Sir George! All sorts of things happen under your noses that you don't see!" "I don't think anything's happening here. They've simply been friends since they were boy and girl together." "That's a handicap, I admit," she replied. "Perhaps the worst a woman has to put up with. But occasionally things happen in spite of it." "I really think you're mistaken this time, Mrs Truscott." "Well, well, well, well.... And are you writing us another of your charming books?"