"He would," commented Mrs. Fielding.
She turned with the words as if Green's proximity were an offence to her, and walked away to the window at the further end of the room.
In the slightly strained pause that followed, Juliet bent to fondle Columbus who was sitting pressed against her and her book slid from her lap to the ground. Green stooped swiftly and picked it up.
"What is it? May I look?"
She held out her hand for it. "It is Marionettes,—Dene Strange's latest. Mrs. Fielding lent it to me."
He kept the book in his hand. "I thought you said you wouldn't read any more of that man's stuff."
She knitted her brows a little. "Did I say so? I don't remember."
He looked down at her keenly. "You said you hated the man and his work."
She began to smile. "Well, I do—in certain moods. But I've got to read him all the same. Everyone does."
"Surely you don't follow the crowd!" he said.