“Two fools don’t make a wise-man,” said Mrs. Carthew.
“He’s very happy.”
“He would be satisfied with much less than you, and he has married a delightful girl.”
“I’m going to marry a delightful girl.”
The old lady made no reply. Nor did she comment again upon his prospect of happiness.
In mid-May, after a visit of nearly a month, Michael left Cobble Place and went to stay at Plashers Mead. Guy Hazlewood was the only friend he still had who could not possibly have come into contact with Lily or her former surroundings. Moreover, Guy was deep in love himself, and he had been very sympathetic when he wrote to Michael about his engagement.
“Do I intrude upon your May idyll?” Michael asked.
“My dear chap, don’t be so absurd. But why aren’t you married? You’re as bad as me.”
“Why aren’t you married?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Guy sighed. “Everybody seems to be conspiring to put it off.”