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E. M. Forster: Howards End31. CHAPTER XXXI (continued)Margaret had a bad attack of these nerves during the honeymoon. He told her--casually, as was his habit--that Oniton Grange was let. She showed her annoyance, and asked rather crossly why she had not been consulted. "I didn't want to bother you," he replied. "Besides, I have only heard for certain this morning." "Where are we to live?" said Margaret, trying to laugh. "I loved the place extraordinarily. Don't you believe in having a permanent home, Henry?" He assured her that she misunderstood him. It is home life that distinguishes us from the foreigner. But he did not believe in a damp home. "This is news. I never heard till this minute that Oniton was damp." "My dear girl!"--he flung out his hand--"have you eyes? have you a skin? How could it be anything but damp in such a situation? In the first place, the Grange is on clay, and built where the castle moat must have been; then there's that detestable little river, steaming all night like a kettle. Feel the cellar walls; look up under the eaves. Ask Sir James or any one. Those Shropshire valleys are notorious. The only possible place for a house in Shropshire is on a hill; but, for my part, I think the country is too far from London, and the scenery nothing special." Margaret could not resist saying, "Why did you go there, then?" "I--because--" He drew his head back and grew rather angry. "Why have we come to the Tyrol, if it comes to that? One might go on asking such questions indefinitely." One might; but he was only gaining time for a plausible answer. Out it came, and he believed it as soon as it was spoken. "The truth is, I took Oniton on account of Evie. Don't let this go any further." "Certainly not." This is page 257 of 343. [Mark this Page] Mark any page to add this title to Your Bookshelf. (0 / 10 books on shelf) Buy a copy of Howards End at Amazon.com
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