She had to laugh a little, though still with that horrified sense of tragedy at her heart.
He laughed too his careless boyish laugh, and in a moment all the electricity of the past few moments had gone out of the atmosphere. He leaned forward unexpectedly and transferred a wing of chicken from his plate to hers.
"Look here, Avery! You must eat. It's absurd. So fire away like a sensible woman!"
There was no tenderness in his tone, but, oddly, she thrilled to its imperiousness, conscious of the old magnetism compelling her. She began to eat in silence.
Piers ate too in his usual quick fashion, glancing at her once or twice but making no further comment.
"Tell me about Jeanie!" he said, finally. "What has brought her to this?
Can't we do anything—take her to Switzerland or somewhere?"
Avery shook her head. "Can't you see?" she said, in a low voice.
He frowned upon her abruptly. "I see lots," he said enigmatically. "It's quite hopeless, what? Wyndham told me as much. But—I don't believe in hopeless things."
Avery looked at him, mystified by his tone. "She is dying," she said.
"I don't believe in death either," said Piers, in the tone of one who challenged the world. "And now look here, Avery! Let's make the best of things for the kiddie's sake! She's had a rotten time all her days. Let's give her a decent send-off, what? Let's give her the time of her life before she goes!"