She glanced out of the window. She was not crying but her mouth was not perfectly controlled. In her need she was disarming and he forgot the suffocating and novel self-consciousness which she had begun to engender in him.
“That’s quite obvious, you know,” he said gently.
“Is it?”
“I think so.”
She smiled at him in a grateful, watery fashion which unaccountably turned his heart over, reminding him inconsequentially and, therefore, irritatingly of its exact position in his body.
“I couldn’t get to see the doctor because of Mrs. Pole,” she explained earnestly. “There’s such a lot of that sort of thing. I haven’t got any definite work but I never seem to be able to be on hand at the right moment. It seems absurd to talk about the house, with an army of servants, but in a place like this,
