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Not when you do it well."
He thought that over.
"Have you anything in mind that I do badly? I mean, particularly
in mind."
"Not very much." But after a moment: "Why don't you make Natalie
play golf?"
"She hates it."
He rather wondered if she thought Natalie was one of the things he
managed badly.
The sense of companionship warmed him. Although neither of them
realized it, their mutual loneliness and dissatisfaction had brought
them together, and mentally at least they were clinging, each
desperately to the other. But their talk was disjointed:
"I'll return that hundred soon. I've sold the house."
"I wish you wouldn't worry about it. It's ridiculous, Audrey."
And, a hundred yards or so further on, "They wouldn't have Chris
in Canada. His heart. He's going into the French Ambulance
service."
"Good for Chris."
But she came out very frankly, when they started back to the
clubhouse.
"It's done me a lot of good, meeting you, Clay. There's something
so big and solid and dependable about you.


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