But the real point was his entire
unconsciousness. He had gone with her into that dark park with no
quickening of the pulse, with no desire for the intimacy of
solitude. He had gone, intending to talk about polo-ponies, and
tennis-racquets; about the temperament of the reverend Mother at
the convent she had left and about whether her frock for a party
when they got home should be white or blue. It hadn't come into
his head that they would talk about a single thing that they hadn't
always talked about; it had not even come into his head that the
tabu which extended around her was not inviolable. And then,
suddenly, that-- He was very careful to assure me that at that time
there was no physical motive about his declaration. It did not
appear to him to be a matter of a dark night and a propinquity and
so on. No, it was simply of her effect on the moral side of his life
that he appears to have talked. He said that he never had the
slightest notion to enfold her in his arms or so much as to touch
her hand. He swore that he did not touch her hand. He said that
they sat, she at one end of the bench, he at the other; he leaning
slightly towards her and she looking straight towards the light of
the Casino, her face illuminated by the lamps.
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