Archie expected something of this sort: its conventionality, its utter insincerity, amused him enormously. And, wanting more of it, he said just the proper sort of thing to encourage her to give it him.
"Oh, my dear," he said, "but how you will love and cherish that letter!
I don't suppose you were once out of his thoughts all the time he was in
France."
She shook her head.
"I am sure of it," she said. "Ah, what a privilege to have been loved as I was loved by such a noble, manly heart. I must always think of that, mustn't I?"
Archie took her hand again. The touch of those soft, cool fingers gave him pleasure; so, too, did the answering pressure of them.
"Yes, indeed," he said. "And you must remember, too, that it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
She repeated the quotation in a dreamy meditative voice.
"Yes, that is so true: it does me good to think of that," she said. "And I mustn't think of him as dead really. He is just as living as ever he was. He was so fond of you too. We often spoke of you. And his quaint, quiet humour!…"
That was the general note of the first act: it had been short, for the conversation suitable to it was necessarily limited. The second showed a great advance in scope and variety of topics. Also the tempo was quite changed: instead of its being largo, it was at least andante con moto.
This time, after again keeping him waiting, she had entered with a smile.