I should . . . should have. . . . There are, in his history, so many of these unmade moves, so many “should haves”—should have married her, let her father steer him, should have stayed in Harley Street, been kinder, smiled more at strangers, even smiled back this afternoon at Maudie Chilkes . . . why couldn’t he? A silly bleeding smile, why not, what inhibits, what snarl of the mosaic?
