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375 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1961
much where it was – & where it ought to be is in an incinerator & would be if I hadn’t pledged myself to write it. To be honest with you, I do not want to write this book. Or any other book. I have no inspiration, no energy, no enthusiasm, & no power-of-the-pen! I sit & look at the bloody thing, & wonder what can have possessed me to embark on it.


In real life tragedy and comedy were so intermingled that when one was most wretched, ridiculous things happened to make one laugh in spite of oneself.
"Lord, if we were all to marry our first loves what a plague of ill-assorted marriages there would be!”
After all, life was not made up of moments of exaltation, but of quite ordinary, everyday things.
"I say that you owe it to your name to seize any honourable chance that offers of bringing yourself about," [advised Oversley].
"Honourable? Adam ejaculated. "Selling myself to a wealthy Cit's daughter? Oh, no! Not myself: my title!"
There was a suggestion of squareness about [Jenny]; she was already plump, and would probably become stout in late life. She was certainly not a beauty, but there was nothing in the least objectionable in her countenance.
She was as unlike Miss Oversley as she could be. There was no brilliance in her eyes, no allure in her smile, no music in her flat-toned voice, and not the smallest suggestion of the ethereal either in her person or in her bearing. ... looked as though she had more sense than sensibility.
Dreams were without a future, and [Adam] did not try to discover what his might be, being too tired to force his brain to look forward...
Adam, back in his unquiet dream, only observed the dictates of his breeding. Good manners demanded a certain line of conduct, and it was second nature to him to respond to that demand.
"[Adam] didn't choose between me and you, Julia; it was between me and ruin.
You say he won't be happy but at least he'll be comfortable."


"He was obliged to master an impulse to retreat, and to tell himself that her acceptance of the proposed match was no more coldblooded than his own.
He was quite as pale as she, and he replied, in a strained voice: ‘Miss Chawleigh, if you feel that you could bear it I shall count myself fortunate. I won’t offer you false coin. To make the sort of protestations natural to this occasion would be to insult you, but you may believe me sincere when I say that if you do me the honour to marry me I shall try to make you happy.’
She got up. ‘I shall be. Don’t think of that! I don’t wish you to try to – Only to be comfortable! I hope I can make you so: I’ll do my best. And you’ll tell me what you wish me to do – or if I do something you don’t like – won’t you?’"
"He did not answer for a moment, and then he said gently: ‘I owe Jenny a great deal, you know. She studies all the time to please me, never herself. Our marriage – isn’t always easy, for either of us, but she tries to make it so, and behaves more generously than I do. Given her so much! You know better than to say that, my dear! I had nothing to give her but a title – and I wonder sometimes if she sets any more store by that than you would."
"Yet, after all, Jenny thought that she had been granted more than she had hoped for when she had married him. He did love her: differently, but perhaps more enduringly; and he had grown to depend on her. She thought that they would have many years of quiet content: never reaching the heights, but living together in comfort and deepening friendship. Well, you can’t have it both ways, she thought, and I couldn’t live in alt all the time, so I daresay I’m better off as things are."
"After all, life was not made up of moments of exaltation, but of quite ordinary, everyday things."
'Jenny, are you sure you like this scheme?’ Adam asked, when they were alone.
‘Yes, that I do!’ she replied. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Oh, yes! As long as it won’t put you to a great deal of trouble.’
‘It won’t put me to any trouble at all. But if you had rather –’
‘No, there must be a party, of course – or, at any rate, you all think so!’
‘Well, it’s natural we should, but if you don’t wish it –’
‘My dear, you are perfectly right, and I do wish it!'
The next days brought their duties, their small successes, and their annoying failures
But it was only in epic tragedies that gloom was unrelieved. In real life tragedy and comedy were so intermingled that when one was most wretched ridiculous things happened to make one laugh in spite of oneself
After all, life was not made up of moments of exaltation, but of quite ordinary, everyday things