‘You’ve been reading too much. That was always your trouble.’
‘My trouble is that neither of these characters came out of a book. There were no happy endings.’
It had been a beautiful day, and the evening was clear. She could hear the sounds of home-going traffic and longed to be out in the street, sharing the hour at which it was legitimate to think of pleasure.
Under the promise of that cloudless sky it seems that our lives together have only just begun. In that sense our story will run its course, and I realize, with a lifting of the heart, that it is not yet time to close the book.
It would have been unwise to disregard the compelling power of the sun, but it would now be wise to proceed as if the sun were unlikely to shine for ever.
In fact what is so precious about this friendship – for it is a true friendship – is that it has involved no change of character, no effort to meet the other’s requirements. We find each other acceptable as we are, and thus there is no room for any possible comparisons.
They say that love is the antidote to death; they even say that love is more powerful than death. I was willing to believe it, even anxious to do so. But in the absence of a lover this is not entirely possible.