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When William Came

The Lure
Cicely had successfully insisted on having her own way concerning the projected supper-
party; Yeovil had said nothing further in opposition to it, whatever his feelings on the
subject might be. Having gained her point, however, she was anxious to give her
husband the impression of having been consulted, and to put her victory as far as possible
on the footing of a compromise. It was also rather a relief to be able to discuss the matter
out of range of Joan’s disconcerting tongue and observant eyes.
“I hope you are not really annoyed about this silly supper-party,” she said on the morning
before the much-talked-of first night. “I had pledged myself to give it, so I couldn’t back
out without seeming mean to Gorla, and in any case it would have been impolitic to cry
off.”
“Why impolitic?” asked Yeovil coldly.
“It would give offence in quarters where I don’t want to give offence,” said Cicely.
“In quarters where the fait accompli is an object of solicitude,” said Yeovil.
“Look here,” said Cicely in her most disarming manner, “it’s just as well to be perfectly
frank about the whole matter. If one wants to live in the London of the present day one
must make up one’s mind to accept the fait accompli with as good a grace as possible. I
do want to live in London, and I don’t want to change my way of living and start under
different conditions in some other place. I can’t face the prospect of tearing up my life by
the roots; I feel certain that I shouldn’t bear transplanting. I can’t imagine myself
recreating my circle of interests in some foreign town or colonial centre or even in a
country town in England. India I couldn’t stand. London is not merely a home to me, it
is a world, and it happens to be just the world that suits me and that I am suited to. The
German occupation, or whatever one likes to call it, is a calamity, but it’s not like a
molten deluge from Vesuvius that need send us all scuttling away from another Pompeii.
Of course,” she added, “there are things that jar horribly on one, even when one has got
more or less accustomed to them, but one must just learn to be philosophical and bear
them.”
“Supposing they are not bearable?” said Yeovil; “during the few days that I’ve been in
the land I’ve seen things that I cannot imagine will ever be bearable.”
“That is because they’re new to you,” said Cicely.
“I don’t wish that they should ever come to seem bearable,” retorted Yeovil. “I’ve been
bred and reared as a unit of a ruling race; I don’t want to find myself settling down
resignedly as a member of an enslaved one.”
 
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