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She would have hated my “sexual” writing, and have felt I had brought deep shame on her, when the “Rainbow” was suppressed. Or perhaps not. Perhaps she would have decided I was worth her backing. But she would have been chagrined at my lack of “real” success: that I don’t make more money; that I am not @really@ popular, like Michael Arlen, or @really@ genteel, like Mr Galsworthy: that I have a bad reputation as an improper writer, so that she couldn’t discuss me complacently with my aunts: that I don’t make any “real” friends among the upper classes: that I don’t really rise in the world, only drift about without any real status. All this would have been a chagrin to her. It is perhaps as well she did not live to take part in the adventure. 去书内
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