"She was perfectly right, I am," said Felicity. "Have you left her alone since that?"
"Practically. At least, I only sent her a little thing I thought she'd like."
"A diamond horse-shoe—by any chance?"
"Oh, just a trifle as a souvenir of our long friendship. Then I suggested we should have one final meeting—a diner d'adieu."
"And she didn't send the trinket back, and she didn't refuse? Oh, you're all right!"
"I am not all right, dear Lady Chetwode."
"When are you going to see her again?"
"I'm bound to say that I hope to see her next Saturday evening. But just think! She has actually spoken, written of me as a 'hopeless idiot'!"
"Yes. I understood that."
"Should a man forgive such a thing?"