"Alas!" he said, "the Intangible!"
And I felt, somehow—in a queer psychic way that is elusive, you know—strengthened and sweetened spiritually by our sad little talk.
Our real Egos had been in communion. That's what he said.
He has nine very commonplace children, and his wife is very difficult socially.
She insists on filling some sort of a commercial position, although he says her place is in the home.
So they have grown apart. People don't invite her places. Only him.
Oh! to be understood!