"I think you think so," she prevaricated.
"I know," he was firm. "I shall love you always."
"Nonsense." She was tart with realism. "Why do you fly in the face of all experience with meaningless generalisations?"
"I have never said it before."
"Then how can you know?"
He hated her barrister mood.
"Elaine, aren't you glad I love you?"
"Of course." She closed her eyes wearily. They talked of other things and she remembered how intelligent he was. It had been—during these last months—very easy to forget. But though her interest was concentrated, his attention was on other things.
"Elaine," he blurted, "are you going to the country to-morrow?"
"I don't know."