Page 203 - sons-and-lovers

‘But it’s true, mother—she CAN’T read. What did you
give her?’
‘Well, I gave her a little thing of Annie Swan’s. Nobody
wants to read dry stuff on Sunday afternoon.’
‘Well, I’ll bet she didn’t read ten lines of it.’
‘You are mistaken,’ said his mother.
All the time Lily sat miserably on the sofa. He turned to
her swiftly.
‘DID you ready any?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I did,’ she replied.
‘How much?’
‘l don’t know how many pages.’
‘Tell me ONE THING you read.’
She could not.
She never got beyond the second page. He read a great
deal, and had a quick, active intelligence. She could un-
derstand nothing but love-making and chatter. He was
accustomed to having all his thoughts sifted through his
mother’s mind; so, when he wanted companionship, and
was asked in reply to be the billing and twittering lover, he
hated his betrothed.
‘You know, mother,’ he said, when he was alone with her
at night, ‘she’s no idea of money, she’s so wessel-brained.
When she’s paid, she’ll suddenly buy such rot as marrons
glaces, and then I have to buy her season ticket, and her ex-
tras, even her underclothing. And she wants to get married,
and I think myself we might as well get married next year.
But at this rate—-‘
‘A fine mess of a marriage it would be,’ replied his moth-

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