They were in many respects so right; she clung to that, and shirked more and more the paradoxical conviction that they were also somehow, and even in direct relation to that rightness, absurd. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. This was irregular. ‘She knows what she’s up against. Don’t imagine that. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. Lucy kissed him on the cheek. ’ Hilary eyed him. It rather astonished him. Or did he? Perhaps he had found another.
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