“Of course nobody can ever really understand a woman,” he added, with an instinct of self-protection. “But I advised him not to leave Lily alone. I told him it wasn’t fair to her or to himself.”
“Did you give him any advice about disposing of the furniture?” Sylvia asked.
“Well, I’m arranging about that now.”
“Sorry,” said Sylvia. “I thought you were paving Michael’s past with your own good intentions.”
“You mustn’t take any notice of her,” Lily told Avery, who was looking rather mortified. “She’s rude to everybody.”
“Well, shall I tell you my scheme for clearing up here?” he asked.
“If it will bring us any nearer to business,” Sylvia answered, “we’ll manage to support the preliminary speech.”
A week or two later Avery handed Lily £270, which she immediately transferred to Sylvia’s keeping.
“I kept the Venetian mirror for myself,” Avery said. “You know the one with the jolly little cupids in pink and blue glass. I shall always think of you and Ararat House when I look at myself in it.”
“I suppose all your friends wear their hearts on your sleeve,” Sylvia said. “That must add a spice to vanity.”