“I’m afraid I was very dull,” Michael confessed apologetically. “But I was really envying you and her for being together in May.”
“Together!” Guy repeated. “It’s the object of everyone in Wychford to keep us apart!”
“Do tell her I’m not cold,” Michael begged. “And say how lovely I think her; for really, Guy, she is very lovely and strange. She is a fairy’s child.”
“She is, she is,” Guy said. “Sometimes I’m nearly off my head with the sense of responsibility I have for her happiness. I wonder and wonder until I’m nearly crazed.”
“I’m feeling responsible just now about Lily. I’ve never told you, Guy, but you may hear from other people that I’ve made what is called a mésalliance. Of course, Lily has been....” He stumbled. He could find no words that would not humiliate himself and her. “Guy, come up with me to-morrow and meet her. It’s not fair to leave her like this,” he suddenly proclaimed.
“I don’t think I can come away.”
“Oh, yes, you can. Of course. You must,” Michael urged.
“Pauline will be more jealous of you than ever, if I do.”
“For one night,” Michael pleaded. “I must see her. And you must meet her. Everyone has been so rotten about her, and, Guy, you’ll appreciate her. I won’t bore you by describing her. You must meet her to-morrow. And the rooms in Ararat House. By Jove, you’ll think them wonderful. You should see her in candlelight among the mirrors. Pauline won’t mind your coming away with me for a night. We’ll stay at Cheyne Walk.”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I’m rather hard up just now....”