'I feel all the time, somehow, as if he were calling me by my Christian name without an introduction, or as if he wanted me to exchange hats with him,' she said. 'He's so fearfully familiar with his readers.'
'But you think he keeps at a respectful distance from his characters? However—why worry about books at all, Mrs Ottley? Flowers, lilies of the field, and so forth, don't toil or spin; why should they belong to libraries? I don't think you ever ought to read—except perhaps sometimes a little poetry, or romance…. You see, that is what you are, rather, isn't it?'
'Don't you care for books?' she answered, ignoring the compliment. 'I should have thought you loved them, and knew everything about them. I'm not sure that I know.'
'You know quite enough, believe me,' he answered earnestly. 'Oh, don't be cultured—don't talk about Lloyd George! Don't take an intelligent interest in the subjects of the day!'
'All right; I'll try not.'
She turned with a laugh to Captain Willis, who seemed very depressed.
'I say, you know,' he said complainingly, 'this is all very well. It's all very well no doubt. But I only ask one thing—just one. Is this cricket? I merely ask, you know. Just that—is it cricket; what?'
'It isn't meant to be. What's the matter?'
'Why, I'm simply fed up and broken-hearted, you know. Hardly two words have I had with you tonight, Mrs Ottley…. I suppose that chap's awfully amusing, what? I'm not amusing…. I know that.'
'Oh, don't say that. Indeed you are.' she consoled him.