'I was quite right the other day.'
'Didn't I look nicer than Mrs Raymond?'
'That's not the point. You talk as if you were rivals on the same platform. She's on a different plane. But he'll get tired in the end of her indifference and remember you,' added Anne sardonically.
'Then he'll find I've forgotten him. Oh, why am I so unhappy?'
'You're too emotional, but you'll be happy through that too. Please don't make your eyes red. There are other people in the world. Cecil Reeve—'
'And yet there's something so fascinating about him. He's so unlike anybody else.'
'Bosh!' said Anne. 'He's exactly like thousands of other young men. But it just happens you've taken a fancy to him; that's the only thing that makes him different.'
'I hate him,' said Hyacinth. 'Do you dislike him, Anne?'
'Dislike him?' said Anne, turning out one of the lights. 'No, indeed! I loathe him!'
'But why?'