JULIET GAINS EXPERIENCE
“Of course,” Juliet said, “after Tredowen it seems very small, almost poky, but it isn’t, really, and Tredowen was not for me all my days. It was quite time I got used to something else.”
Wingrave looked around him with expressionless face. It was a tiny room, high up on the fifth floor of a block of flats, prettily but inexpensively furnished. Juliet herself, tall and slim, with all the fire of youth and perfect health on her young face, was obviously contented.
“And your work?” he asked.
She made a little grimace.
“I have a good deal to unlearn,” she said, “but Mr. Pleydell is very kind and encouraging.”
“You will go down to Cornwall for the hot weather, I hope?” he said. “London is unbearable in August.”
“The class are going for a sketching tour to Normandy,” she said, “and Mr. Pleydell thought that I might like to join them. It is very inexpensive, and I should be able to go on with my work all the time.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“I hear,” he said, “that you have met Mr. Aynesworth again.”