constant duty....

I don't know what dreams Altiora may have had in her schoolroom days, I
always suspected her of suppressed and forgotten phases, but certainly
her general effect now was of an entirely passionless worldliness in
these matters. Indeed so far as I could get at her, she regarded sexual
passion as being hardly more legitimate in a civilised person than--let
us say--homicidal mania. She must have forgotten--and Bailey too. I
suspect she forgot before she married him. I don't suppose either of
them had the slightest intimation of the dimensions sexual love can take
in the thoughts of the great majority of people with whom they come in
contact. They loved in their way--an intellectual way it was and a fond
way--but it had no relation to beauty and physical sensation--except
that there seemed a decree of exile against these things. They got their
glow in high moments of altruistic ambition--and in moments of vivid
worldly success. They sat at opposite ends of their dinner table with so
and so "captured," and so and so, flushed with a mutual approval. They
saw people in love forgetful and distraught about them, and just put it
down to forgetfulness and distraction. At any rate Altiora manifestly
viewed my situation and Margaret's with an abnormal and entirely
misleading simplicity. There was the girl, rich, with an acceptable
claim to be beautiful, shiningly virtuous, quite capable of political
interests, and there was I, talented, ambitious and full of
political and social passion, in need of just the money, devotion and
regularisation Margaret could provide. We were both unmarried--white
sheets of uninscribed paper. Was there ever a simpler situation? What
more could we possibly want?

She was even a little offended at the inconclusiveness that did not
settle things at Pangbourne. I seemed to her, I suspect, to reflect upon
her judgment and good intentions.

7

I didn't see things with Altiora's simplicity.

I admired Margaret very much, I was fully aware of all that she and I
might give each other; indeed so far as Altiora went we were quite in
agreement. But what seemed solid ground to Altiora and the ultimate
footing of her emasculated world, was to me just the superficial
covering of a gulf--oh! abysses of vague and dim, and yet stupendously
significant things.

I couldn't dismiss the interests and the passion of sex as Altiora did.
Work, I agreed, was important; career and success; but dee