She veered round upon him a moment later, as if, when her train of thought was ended, she became aware of his presence.
"Have you finished your letter?" she asked. He thought he heard faint amusement in her tone, but not a trace of jealousy.
"No, I'm not going to write any more to-night," he said. "I'm not in the mood for it for some reason. I can't say what I want to say."
"Cassandra won't know if it's well written or badly written," Katharine remarked.
"I'm not so sure about that. I should say she has a good deal of literary feeling."
"Perhaps," said Katharine indifferently. "You've been neglecting my education lately, by the way. I wish you'd read something. Let me choose a book." So speaking, she went across to his bookshelves and began looking in a desultory way among his books.
