A Room With a View by Edward Morgan Forster Chapter 9 Page 29

enough he did explain before they had gone a dozen yards.

“I had got an idea — I dare say wrongly — that you feel more at home with me in a room.”

“A room?” she echoed, hopelessly bewildered.

“Yes. Or, at the most, in a garden, or on a road. Never in the real country like this.”

“Oh, Cecil, whatever do you mean? I have never felt anything of the sort. You talk as if I was a kind of poetess sort of person.”

“I don't know that you aren't. I connect you with a view — a certain type of view. Why shouldn't you connect me with a room?”

She reflected a moment, and then said, laughing: