Then Ellen was conscious that something unpleasant had been said or done. She could not tell what it was, but she felt that she had given offense. Hilda went out quickly into the hall and stood waiting. She did not speak to Levis or to Ellen; she only said once more, "I said that it's time to go!"
"You're not really going this minute!" protested Levis, his sharp disappointment quickening his throbbing heart.
"Yes," said Stephen. His voice was louder than it had been and even a little more pleasant. "We really must be off." He held out his hand. "I haven't forgotten anything, not anything!"
Hilda followed across the grass to the car and stepped in. From the car Stephen waved his hand and Levis and Ellen waved theirs. Hilda did not look back. The car started noiselessly; they sat like king and queen in a state chariot, a silent retainer conducting them.
"I think she behaved in a very queer way," said Ellen.
"I agree with you," said Levis. He went into his office and stood looking at the books in his case, and Ellen followed closely.
"Who are they?"
"He was a friend in college. I haven't seen him for years." Frowning, Levis took down one of a set of volumes and went to his desk. "He was a nice boy."
"Was he married when you knew him?"
"No; I remember hearing that he had married a rich wife."