“The point is that I’m very worried about Edward. Damon can take care of himself, make a fool of himself if he chooses, but Edward is in a bad state, Orlando.”

“Yes, I know,” he said quietly.

“Isn’t there something we can do?” He could see her as clearly as if he were in the room—sitting up in bed, surrounded by piles of Nations, New Republics and books, wide awake, looking like an old hawk—and seeing this image so clearly moved him.

“We can try to go to sleep,” he said gently.

“Don’t be preposterous, Orlando. Tell me what happened,” she commanded.

“We talked. Edward told me the whole miserable affair. Then we played the Mozart clarinet quintet, and then he left—just a few minutes ago.”

“I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I feel so anxious.”

“It’s hard to stand by, but Edward has got to come to terms with his life, Grace.”

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I mean you can’t allow yourself to be torn to pieces by what has happened and hence what cannot be changed, in this case the Czechoslovakian business. But that’s only a symptom—we’ll have to talk, Grace. I really must get to work.” For what had happened was that Orlando felt suddenly exhausted. He might appear to be balanced, but everything that had happened and was happening in the world affected him deeply. To be summoned out of his quiet, when he had just reached it after the long day, to be confronted once more with these painful matters, to have to bolster Grace up as well as Edward—he felt wildly impatient with the telephone. His instinct was to slam down the receiver.

“You’ll come to tea tomorrow?”

“Of course. And now try to calm yourself. Is Horace there?”

“No, he’s out, the wretch, making fearful noises and infuriating Professor Stone, no doubt. I shall have to go and get him in.”

“Yes, perhaps you had better.”

“You’re a great comfort to me, Orlando,” she said meekly.

“You are one of the furies in disguise, but I love you just the same. Good night, dear.” This time he did put the receiver down. Then he sat for a moment with his head in his hands, gave a sudden short laugh as he imagined Horace keeping the whole neighborhood awake, and then, still smiling, picked up his pen.

IV

IV