“I liked him, and I never undeceived him. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. I didn’t see everything last time. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. "Is she married?" he asked, after a brief pause.
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