'He could hardly send you flowers, Bruce. I'm sure he thought it was the proper thing.'
Bruce walked up and down the room greatly agitated.
'I admit that this is a matter that requires consideration. I shouldn't like to make a mountain out of a mole-hill. We'll see; we'll give him a chance. But if he comes here again, or takes any step to persuade you to have anything to do with his Society or whatever it is, I shall know how to act.'
'Of course you will, dear.'
Edith hoped she wouldn't receive a large envelope full of papers about the Legitimists by the first post.
'I hope you know, Bruce, I shouldn't care if I never saw him again.'
'Why not? Because he's my friend, I suppose? You look down on him just because he's a hard worker, and of some use in the world—not a dandified, conventional, wasp-waisted idiot like Cecil Reeve! Perhaps you prefer Cecil Reeve?'
'Much,' replied Edith firmly.
'Why? Let's hear your reasons.'
'Why, he's a real person. I know where I am when I'm talking to him—we're on the same platform.'