"His will, if you must have it put in plain terms."
"Oh, money! I hate money!"
Nigel's expression was curious. He sheltered her across the pavement, and handed her into the fly, wearing that look still.
Fulvia wondered what it meant. She said penitently, "I'll be good. It won't do to think only of myself!"—and was rewarded by a smile.
Then Nigel stepped into the house, and as the fly was about to start, Daisy rushed out bareheaded into the rain.
"Fulvie!"
"Daisy, come back! You will be soaked," said Nigel.
Daisy disregarded him. "Fulvie," she cried, "may I arrange your new jewel-case for you? It's such a beauty, and you have never begun to use it."
Fulvia heard with preoccupied ears, hardly taking in the sense of Daisy's request.
"If you like. Anything! I don't care."