Casanova's Chinese Restaurant - Anthony Powell [68]
‘I see you asked Carolo,’ I said.
Moreland, although always perfectly friendly – indeed, making more effort with Carolo than he usually did with gloomy, silent geniuses – never gave the impression of caring much for his company. I supposed Carolo’s invitation due to some inflexion of musical politics of which I was myself ignorant, and about which, to tell the truth, I felt very little interest. However, this comment seemed to sober Matilda, or at least to change her mood.
‘We had to ask him,’ she said. ‘No choice of mine, I can assure you. It was all on account of the Maclinticks. As Carolo lives in the same house as the Maclinticks, Hugh thought it would be awkward if he didn’t get an invitation. Hugh was very anxious for Maclintick to come – in fact wouldn’t hear of his not coming. Hugh and Maclintick are really great friends, you know.’
‘The Maclinticks were having a full-dress row when I left them a short time ago.’
‘They always are.’
‘They should lay off for an hour or two on occasions like this. A short rest would renew their energies for starting again when they return home.’
‘That is just married life.’
‘To be married to either of the Maclinticks cannot be much fun—’
‘Is it fun to be married to anyone?’
‘That is rather a big question. If you admit that fun exists at all – perhaps you don’t – you cannot lay it down categorically that no married people get any fun from the state of being married.’
‘But I mean married to someone,’ said Matilda, speaking quite passionately. ‘Not to sleep with them, or talk to them, or go about with them. To be married to them. I have been married a couple of times and I sometimes begin to doubt it.’
We were now in the midst of dangerous abstractions which might once more threaten further embarrassments of the kind I hoped to avoid. Generalisations about married life could easily turn to particularisation about Moreland and Priscilla, a relationship I should prefer to investigate later, in my own way and time, rather than have handed to me on a plate by Matilda; the latter method almost certainly calling for decisions and agreements undesirable, so it seemed to me, at this stage of the story. I was also very surprised by this last piece of information: that Matilda had had a husband previous to Moreland.
‘You have been married twice, Matilda?’
‘Didn’t you know?’
‘Not the least idea.’
I wondered for a moment whether Sir Magnus Donners could possibly have married her clandestinely. If so – and that was very unlikely – an equally clandestine divorce was scarcely conceivable. That notion could be dismissed at once.
‘I was married to Carolo,’ she said.
‘My dear Matilda.’
‘That surprises you?’
‘Immensely.’
She laughed shrilly.
‘I thought Hugh might have told you.’
‘Never a word.’
‘There is no particular secret about it. The marriage lasted a very short time. It was when I was quite young. In fact pretty soon after I left home. Carolo is not a bad old thing in his way. Just not very bright. Not a bit like Hugh. We used to quarrel a good deal. Then we didn’t really get on in bed. Besides, I got tired of him talking about himself all the time.’
‘Understandably.’
‘After