It has placed us in the most painful and
delicate position. And now you're back, I'm afraid it will be worse."
Thus under all Agatha's affection there ran the general hostility of
London. Guilty or not, I had offended her in her most deeply rooted
susceptibilities, and as yet she only knew half the imbroglio in which I
was enmeshed. Over coffee, however, she began to take a more optimistic
view of affairs.
"After all, you'll be able to live it down," she said with a cheerful
air of patronage. "People soon forget. Before the year is out you'll
be going about just as usual, and at the General Election you'll find a
seat somewhere."
I informed her that I had given up politics. What then, she asked, would
I do for an occupation?
"Work for my living," I replied.
"Work?" She arched her eyebrows, as if it were the most extraordinary
thing a man could do. "What kind of work?"
"Road-sweeping or tax-collecting or envelope-addressing."
She selected a cigarette from the silver box in front of her, and did
not reply until she had lit it and inhaled a puff or two.
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