Dangerous Days

He released her hand.

"So you like me because I'm sensible! Thanks."

"That's a good reason, isn't it?"

"Good God, Natalie, I'm only sensible because I have to be. Not about

the war. I'm not talking about that. About you."

"What have I got to do with your being sensible and sane?"

"Just think about things, and you'll know."

She was greatly thrilled and quite untouched. It was a pleasant little

game, and she held all the winning cards. So she said, very softly: "We mustn't go on like this, you know. We mustn't spoil things."

And by her very "we" let him understand that the plight was not his but

theirs. They were to suffer on, she implied, in a mutual, unacknowledged

passion. He flushed deeply.

But although he was profoundly affected, his infatuation was as spurious

as her pretense of one. He was a dilettante in love, as he was in

art. His aesthetic sense, which would have died of an honest passion,

fattened on the very hopelessness of his beginning an affair with

Natalie. Confronted just then with the privilege of marrying her, he

would have drawn back in dismay.

Since no such privilege was to be his, however, he found a deep

satisfaction in considering himself hopelessly in love with her. He was

profoundly sorry for himself. He saw himself a tragic figure, hopeless

and wretched. He longed for the unattainable; he held up empty hands to

the stars, and by so mimicking the gesture of youth, he regained youth.

"You won't cut me out of your life, Natalie?" he asked wistfully.

And Natalie, who would not have sacrificed this new thrill for anything

real in the world, replied: "It would be better, wouldn't it?"

There was real earnestness in his voice when he spoke. He had dramatized

himself by that time.

"Don't take away the only thing that makes life worth living, dear!"

Which Natalie, after a proper hesitation, duly promised not to do.

There were other conversations after that. About marriage, for instance,

which Rodney broadly characterized as the failure of the world; he liked

treading on dangerous ground.

"When a man has married, and had children, he has fulfilled his duty

to the State. That's all marriage is--duty to the State. After that he

follows his normal instincts, of course."

"If you are defending unfaithfulness?"

"Not at all. I admire faithfulness. It's rare enough for admiration.

No. I'm recognizing facts. Don't you suppose even dear old Clay likes a

pretty woman? Of course he does. It's a total difference of view-point,

Natalie. What is an incident to a man is a crime to a woman."