I Stretched Out My Hand Towards The

There Are Various Ways Of Mending A Broken Heart, But Perhaps Going To A Learned Conference Is One Of The More Unusual.

Perhaps There Can Be Too Much Making Of Cups Of Tea, I Thought, As I Watched Miss Statham Filling The Heavy Teapot. Did We Really Need A Cup Of Tea? I Even Said As Much To Miss Statham And She Looked At Me With A Hurt, Almost Angry Look, 'do We Need Tea? She Echoed. 'but Miss Lathbury...' She Sounded Puzzled And Distressed And I Began To Realise That My Question Had Struck At Something Deep And Fundamental. It Was The Kind Of Question That Starts A Landslide In The Mind. I Mumbled Something About Making A Joke And That Of Course One Needed Tea Always, At Every Hour Of The Day Or Night.

Novel Writing Is A Kind Of Private Pleasure, Even If Nothing Comes Of It In Worldly Terms.

Oh, But It Was Splendid The Things Women Were Doing For Men All The Time, Thought Jane. Making Them Feel, Perhaps Sometimes By No More Than A Casual Glance, That They Were Loved And Admired And Desired When They Were Worthy Of None Of These Things - Enabling Them To Preen Themselves And Puff Out Their Plumage Like Birds And Bask In The Sunshine Of Love, Real Or Imagined, It Didn't Matter Which.

How Absurd And Delicious It Is To Be In Love With Somebody Younger Than Yourself. Everybody Should Try It.