“Don’t be absurd, Jack! Expected by whom?”
“Perkins, for one, and no doubt by other people, or things; it doesn’t matter which, but I’m sure of it.”
“Jack,” she protested. “You’re rambling!”
“Well,” he answered slowly, “you just remember this talk, and see. We blend with the place, we’re suitable and acceptable, while the Thursbys were not. That’s obvious at a glance, and they certainly felt it themselves.”
“But how could we be expected by any one who didn’t know us? You can’t explain that.”
He looked at her with sudden gravity. “Did you never have a curious sensation that you were doing things for the second time?”
“Now you’re joking. Have some more tea?”
“No,” he said, “I’m not, and there’s no explanation for it. In fact I’ve an idea that they’re not meant to be explained; at least not yet. But I felt it the minute I got here.”
“But, Jack,” she protested, “you saw the house; you liked it, especially as you couldn’t quite afford it; and of course you were impulsive and took it. What has that to do with a servant, or any one else?”
“Perhaps nothing whatever. It’s a wonderful place to work in.”