She had never even brought a friend home in her time at the Becks, let alone been asked on dates. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin. Threw it out. And then her pace slackened. . The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. They went to the Zoological Gardens together one Saturday to see for themselves a point of morphological interest about the toucan’s bill—that friendly and entertaining bird—and they spent the rest of the afternoon walking about and elaborating in general terms this theme and the superiority of intellectual fellowship to all merely passionate relationships. She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness.
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