eccentricities, weaknesses perhaps? It was astonishing that a man of his intellect could stoop so low as he did⁠—but that was too harsh a phrase⁠—could depend so much as he did upon people’s praise.

“Oh but,” said Lily, “think of his work!”

Whenever she “thought of his work” she always saw clearly before her a large kitchen table. It was Andrew’s doing. She asked him what his father’s books were about. “Subject and object and the nature of reality,” Andrew had said. And when she said Heavens, she had no notion what that meant. “Think of a kitchen table then,” he told her, “when you’re not there.”