ll your time goes in writing to the papers and sitting on
committees. You aren't doing any work.'

'I've worked in exile for ten years. I can carry on with that for a
year at least.'

'Very well. Only don't stop believing in yourself.'

'I could never do that.'

'I think it would be very easy for you to begin believing in what the
papers said about you.'

'You're too young, my dear. You see things too clearly.'

They were now in the furnished house found for them by Mr Clott, a most
respectable house in an unimpeachable neighbourhood: an old house
reclaimed from the slums, re-faced, re-panelled, painted, papered,
decorated by a firm who supplied taste as well as furniture. Charles
hated it, but Clara, who through her grandfather knew and appreciated
comfort, was delighted with it, and with a few deft touches in every
room made it her own. It hurt her that Charles should hate it because
it was good and decent in its atmosphere, and belonged to the widow of
a famous man of letters, who, intrigued by the remarkable couple, had
called once or twice and had invited Clara to her house, where the
foreign-bred girl for the first time encountered the muffins and tea
element of London life, which is its best and most characteristic. It
seemed to her that, if Charles would not accept that, he would never be
reconciled to his native country as she wanted him to be. There was
about the muffins and tea in a cosy drawing-room a serenity which had
always been to her the distinguishing mark of Englishmen abroad. It
had been in her grandfather's character, and she wanted it to be in
Charles's. It was to a certain extent in his character through his
art, but she wanted it also to be through more tangible things. As she
wanted it, she willed it, and her will was an impersonal thing which in
its movement dragged her whole being with it, and it had no more
consideration for others than it had for herself. She could see no
reason why an artist should not be in touch with what was best in the
ordinary lives of ordinary people; indeed, she could not imagine from
what other source he could draw sustenance....

Friends and acquaintances had come quickly. Success was so rapid as to
be almost ridiculous, and hardly worth having, and people took
everything that Charles said in a most maddeningly literal way. She
understood what he meant, but very often she found that his utterances
were translated into terms of money or politic