“I feel as if all this has happened before,” he said. “Do you know that feeling? Did we ever sit here before and talk about just this?”
“Not that I remember. No, I’m sure we never have. Isn’t it odd, that sensation? Does it seem to you like remembrance of a previous occasion, or a presentiment of a future one?”
“Or a slightly faulty action of the two lobes of the brain?” said Peter. “What were we talking about? Aces?”
“Yes. That’s what I mean about throwing the rest of your hand away for the sake of an ace.”
Peter looked at his watch.
“I must go,” he said. “I’ve got to get home to dress, and rush back to the Ritz to dine early before the opera.”
“Oh, not just yet,” said she. “But I wish you wouldn’t live in South Kensington. Why do you?”
Peter had a direct glance and a direct answer for this.
“Because it’s cheaper living with my father and mother than being on my own,” he said. “Also——”
“Well?” she asked.