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pastimes. It was Nigel’s conversation which first impressed her. Ronny had chanced upon her one day in the street, and had insisted on taking her to a cafe for tea. They sat by the window, and were noticed by Nigel as he passed by the tea shop on his way back from a meeting of the Arbuthnot Society, a club for socialist chess enthusiasts. Maria was by no means attracted to him immediately, but she was nevertheless relieved that he came to join them, for Ronny had done nothing but stare moodily into her eyes for the last twenty minutes, and the tedium of the occasion was becoming staggering. He was clearly in no mood for talk himself, so Maria and Nigel began to talk to each other. In the course of their chat it emerged that both were labouring under a half-baked desire to see a new French film which was showing, for one night only, at a cinema in Walton Street. They agreed, therefore, to go together. Ronny was beside himself. He could not accompany them because, by a stroke of rank ill fortune, he was required that same night to attend, in his capacity as treasurer, a meeting of the Crompton Society, a club for existentialist bridge players. So he could only sit and watch, helpless, while his best friend, before his very eyes, arranged to go out with the girl whom he had loved for as long as he had known her.
    Maria and Nigel spent a peculiar evening together. Before the film, they met for a drink, or at least met at a place where drinks were served, and drank there. We say, ‘Shall we meet for a drink?’, as though drinking were the main end of the appointment, and the matter of company only incidental, we are so shy about admitting our need for one another. When Nigel and Maria met for a drink, in other words, they were really meeting for a chat, to which the drink was no more than an oddly necessary accompaniment. After the drink, they went to the film, and after the film they went for another drink, or rather another chat because strange though this may seem after three hours together they did not yet want to part. And after the second drink, they went back to Nigel’s room for coffee. Or at least, when they got back to Nigel’s room, they drank coffee, but this was not the main purpose of their withdrawing there, because although I agree it surpasses belief, the fact is that after four hours they were still not tired of each other. We say, ‘Would you like to come for some coffee?’, as though it were less frightening to acknowledge that we are heavily dependent on mildly stimulating drinks, than to acknowledge that we are at all dependent on the companionship of other people. Funny, that. Several changes had already taken place in the nature of Maria’s and Nigel’s relationship by this stage, changes which, when Maria thought about it later that night, seemed hard to account for. For instance, when they emerged from the cinema, and walked from the cinema to the pub, they did so hand in hand. And when they emerged from the pub, and walked from the pub to the room, they had their arms around each other’s waists. And when they emerged from the room, and said goodnight under a cloudless sky, they had their tongues in each other’s mouths. Some people would call this progress. Maria didn’t know what to make of it.
    This was the start then of Maria’s affair with Nigel. How significant, really, that the language affords no better word than ‘affair’ for this sorry procedure. How long it lasted, how much pleasure it gave them, these are details which we needn’t bother with. However, a few words about the pastimes, the means of filling out the hours of empty fondness, enjoyed by this couple.
    Before meeting Nigel, Maria had discovered only two ways of affording herself anything which she could honestly call enjoyment. They were listening to music, and being with Sarah. Now Nigel did not like music, and he did not like Sarah, so both of these had to go out of the window.
    There were many things, on the other