“And so that’s the wonderful hair you all admire so much, is it?” she said.
“Well,” replied Vernon, almost defiantly, “don’t you think it is rather exceptional hair?”
Amelia turned on him with a look of superior and pitying penetration.
“Does that shade deceive you?” she asked. She smiled disconcertingly, as she looked away again at Maria Greene. The woman lawyer was just leaving the politicians.
“And to think of wearing that hat with that hair!” Amelia went on. “Though of course,” she added with deep meaning, “it may originally have been the right shade; the poor hat can’t be expected to change its color.”
Vernon had no answer for her.
“I wonder what explanation she’ll have for her defeat,” said Amelia in a tone that could not conceal its spirit of triumph.
“I’m not worried about that,” said Vernon. “I’m more concerned about the explanation I’ll have.”
“Dearest!” exclaimed Amelia, swiftly laying her hand on his. Her tone had changed, and as she leaned toward him with the new tenderness that her new manner exhaled, Vernon felt a change within himself, and his heart swelled.
“Dearest,” she said, in a voice that hesitated before the idea of some necessary reparation, “are you really so badly disappointed?”