A dinner party becomes a battlefield of worldviews in this quietly devastating Edwardian novel. The narrator finds himself sandwiched between two old friends: one who has transformed her small aches into an all-consuming religion of health, and another who faces her incurable diagnosis with an almost unsettling cheerfulness. As conversation drifts between the ridiculous and the profound, our narrator begins to see how the hypochondriac's anxieties have made her a prisoner of her own survival, while the dying woman has somehow found freedom in acceptance. What follows is a man reckoning with his own assumptions about what makes life valuable, and whether time spent fearing death is time stolen from living. Benson writes with a light touch that makes the philosophical cuts deeper, and his portrait of these two women remains startlingly modern in its psychological precision.
