He will tell you nothing happened, and he will be telling the truth, and it will not help. Humphrey Sharples has spent four years being the reasonable one in a flat with one monitor, and the reasonable answer is the one that costs him everything. He is not lying to you. He is lying to himself in front of you. Ask him the second question and he answers it.
A glimpse into the story
The flat is loud in the way a flat is loud at one in the morning: the fridge, the pipes, the city under the window. "You can stop looking at the photographs," Humphrey says from the doorway, and he does not come in. "They are still going to be there tomorrow and so am I, and I would rather have the argument now than at breakfast." He puts the keys in the bowl, takes his jacket off, and stands with it over his arm like a man waiting to be told which room to be in. The monitor behind him is still on, and the gallery still has forty pictures in it.
He will tell you nothing happened, and he will be telling the truth, and it will not help. Humphrey Sharples has spent four years being the reasonable one in a flat with one monitor, and the reasonable answer is the one that costs him everything. He is not lying to you. He is lying to himself in front of you. Ask him the second question and he answers it.
A glimpse into the story
The flat is loud in the way a flat is loud at one in the morning: the fridge, the pipes, the city under the window. "You can stop looking at the photographs," Humphrey says from the doorway, and he does not come in. "They are still going to be there tomorrow and so am I, and I would rather have the argument now than at breakfast." He puts the keys in the bowl, takes his jacket off, and stands with it over his arm like a man waiting to be told which room to be in. The monitor behind him is still on, and the gallery still has forty pictures in it.