(1) During the holiday I received no letter from Myrtle and when I returned to the town she had gone away. I telephoned each day until she came back, and then she said she was going to a party. I put up with her new tactics patiently.

(2) The next time we spent an evening together there was no quarrel. To avoid it I took Myrtle to the cinema. We did not mention Haxby.

(3) On the other hand it was impossible to pretend that either of us was happy. Myrtle’s expression of unhappiness was deepening.

(4) Day by day I watched her sink into a bout of despair, and I concluded it was my fault—had I not concluded it was my fault, the looks Myrtle gave me would rapidly have concluded it for me.

(5) The topic of conversation we avoided above all others was the project of going to America. I cursed the tactlessness of Robert and Tom in talking about it in front of her before I had had time to prepare her for it.

(6) I felt aggrieved, as one does after doing wrong and being found out. I did not know what to do. When you go to the theatre you see a number of characters caught in a dramatic situation.

(7) What happens next? They usually do something and then everything is changed.

(8) My life is different. I never have scenes, and if I do, they are discouragingly not dramatic. Practically no action arises. And nothing whatsoever is changed. My life is not as good as a play. Nothing like it. All I did with my present situation was try and tide it over.

(9) When Myrtle emerged from the deepest blackness of despair—nobody after all, could remain there definitely—I tried to comfort her.

(10) I gradually unfolded all my plan, including those for her. She could come to America, too. She was a commercial artist. She could get a job and our relationship could continue as it was. And I will not swear that I did not think: “And in America she might even succeed in marrying me.” It produced no effect. She began to drink more.

(11) She began to go to parties very frequently; it was very soon clear that she had decided to see less of me. I do not blame Myrtle. Had I been in her place I would have tried to do the same thing.

(12) Being in my place I tried to prevent her. I knew what sort of parties she was going to: they were parties at which Haxby was present. We began to wrangle over going out with each other. She was never free at the times I suggested.

(13) Sometimes, usually on a Saturday night, she first arranged to meet me and then changed her mind. I called that rubbing it in a little too far. But her behavior, I repeat, perfectly sensible. By seeing less of me she stood a chance of finding somebody else, or of making me jealous, or of both. Either way she could not lose.

The author felt guilty and angry because________.