Chapter 7

           ThefirstyearoftheirmarriagewouldhavebeenstormyexceptforMichael’splacidity.Itneededtheexcitementofgettingapartorafirstnight,thegaietyofapartywherehehaddrunkseveralglassesofchampagne,toturnhispracticalmindtothoughtsoflove.Noflattery,noallurements,couldtempthimwhenhehadanengagementnextdayforwhichhehadtokeephisbrainclearoraroundofgolfforwhichheneededasteadyeye.Juliamadehimfranticscenes.ShewasjealousofhisfriendsattheGreenRoomClub,jealousofthegamesthattookhimawayfromher,andjealousofthemen’sluncheonshewenttounderthepretextthathemustcultivatepeoplewhomightbeusefultothem.Itinfuriatedherthatwhensheworkedherselfupintoapassionoftearsheshouldsittherequitecalmly,withhishandscrossedandagood-humouredsmileonhishandsomeface,asthoughsheweremerelymakingherselfridiculous.

           "Youdon’tthinkI’mrunningafteranyotherwoman,doyou?"heasked.

           "HowdoIknow?It’squiteobviousthatyoudon’tcaretwostraws*forme."

           "Youknowyou’retheonlywomanintheworldforme."

           "MyGod!"

           "Idon’tknowwhatyouwant."

           "Iwantlove.IthoughtI’dmarriedthehandsomestmaninEnglandandI’vemarriedatailor’sdummy."

           "Don’tbesosilly.I’mjusttheordinarynormalEnglishman.I’mnotanItalianorgan-grinder."*

           Shesweptupanddowntheroom.TheyhadasmallflatatBuckinghamGateandtherewasnotmuchspace,butshedidherbest.Shethrewupherhandstoheaven.

           "Imightbesquint-eyedandhump-backed.