The Same to the Same
15a, Whittington Terrace, Bayswater 15th October, 1928
I knew it, Bungie—I knew it, I knew it! I knew we should be asked downstairs to tea. And we’ve been! Down among the Liberty curtains and the brass Benares ware! Three young women, two bright youths, the local parson and the family. Crockery from Heal’s and everything too conscientiously bright. Mrs. Harrison all radiance and very much the centre of attraction.
No sooner had I got there than I was swept into a discussion about “this wonderful man Einstein.” Extraordinarily interesting, wasn’t it, and what did I make of it? Displaying all my social charm, I said I thought it was a delightful idea. I liked thinking that all the straight lines were really curly, and only wished I’d known all about it at school, because it would have annoyed the geometry master so much.
“But you do think there’s something in it, don’t you? My husband says it is all nonsense, but what do you say?”
There was a little stir of triumph about this, and I somehow gathered that the Einstein topic had been deliberately chosen for a purpose. I said guardedly that I believed the theory was now generally accepted by mathematicians, though with very many reserves.
“It really is, is it? Really true that nothing actually exists as we see it? I do hope so, because I have always felt so strongly that materialism is all wrong. There is something so deadening about materialism, isn’t there? I do so wish I knew what life means and what we really are. But I can’t understand these things, and, you know, I should so like to, if only I had someone to explain them to me.”