"You see," Betty went on, "all that sort of thing is such nonsense. If I knew you cared about someone else everything would be so simple."
"Eliminate love," said Vernon, "and the world is a simple example in vulgar fractions."
"I want it to be simple addition," said Betty. "Lady St. Craye is very beautiful."
"Yes," said Vernon.
"Is she in love with you?"
"Ask her," said Vernon, feeling like a schoolboy in an examination.
"If she were—and you cared for her—then you and I could be friends: I should like to be real friends with you."
"Let us be friends," said he when he had paused a moment. He made the proposal with every possible reservation.
"Really?" she said. "I'm so glad."
If there was a pang, Betty pretended to herself that there was none. If Vernon's conscience fluttered him he was able to soothe it; it was an art that he had studied for years.