“I was rather surprised she seemed to like that man Avery so much,” Alan said. “But I suppose he pretended to know an awful lot about music. I don’t think I care for him.”
“Some people don’t,” Michael admitted. “I think women always like him, though.”
“Yes, I should think they did,” Alan agreed bitterly. “Sorry I’m so depressing. Have a meringue or something.”
“Alan, why, are you in love with Stella?” Michael challenged.
“What made you think I was?” countered Alan, looking alarmed.
“It’s pretty obvious,” Michael said. “And curiously enough I can quite understand it. Generally, of course, a brother finds it difficult to understand what other people can see in his sister, but I’m never surprised when they fall in love with Stella.”
“A good many have?” asked Alan, and his blue eyes were sharpened by a pain deeper than that of seeing a catch in the slips missed off his bowling.
“Oh, I’ve realized for a long time how utterly hopeless it was for me,” Alan sighed. “I’m evidently going to be a failure.”
“Would you care for some advice?” inquired Michael very tentatively.