Reggie frowned. He had been acting for this last week or so with such spontaneity, obeying so instantaneously his inclinations, that he found it hard to answer questions about these things. It is always harder to recall what we have done unthinkingly, than what has been the result of thought or conscious effort.
"I don't know," he said. "We talk about her now and then, but we talk about a thousand things. I don't know what you mean. Lady Hayes said the other day that she was sure Gerty would detest her."
"I think Lady Hayes is probably quite right."
"Then it would be very unreasonable of Gerty," said Reggie, frowning again, "and I don't know why you think so. Why should Gerty detest her?"
"Does she strike you as the sort of woman Gerty would like?"
"I don't think I ever thought about it till Lady Hayes mentioned it, and I disagreed with her."
"You told me the other day that you and Gerty agreed that you only liked good people. I don't think Gerty would think her good."
Reggie flushed angrily.
"I don't really see what you are driving at," he said rather vehemently, because he did see. "I think I won't talk about her any more if you don't mind, mummy. You see she's very kind and delightful to me, and that's all that I have any right to judge by, and I'm sure she'd be just as nice to Gerty."