"What a nuisance packing is. I've got a fearful lot to do to get to Charing Cross in time for the boat train."
Like many other people he tried to demonstrate his sympathy by enlarging on his own trials.
"Well?" said Jenny, regarding him from eyes pinpointed with revulsion in a critical survey that was not softened by the gray morning light, for whatever silkiness clung to the outside air was lost in the stale room.
"I wish I hadn't got to go away," said Danby awkwardly.
"Why?" Jenny asked, screwing up her eyes as if she had perceived upon the wall an unpleasant insect.
"Well, it seems a pity now that we've—we've got to know each other better."
"You don't think," said Jenny, chiseling the words from the very bedrock of her contempt, "you don't think that because I've been in your flat all a night, you know me? Why, I don't know myself even."
"Aren't you going to come and see me off?" he asked in a ludicrous attempt at sentiment.
"See you off? See you off? Oh yes, that's a game of mine seeing off clothes-props. If you can't move," she added, "I can. Let me pass, please."
Jenny walked towards the door of the contaminated flat followed by Danby in a state of weak bewilderment.