“Sit on the stoep generally. I don’t care about cards. When Mr Sinclair was here we used to walk.”
“Sinclair!—yes... The fellow who fancied he possessed all the virtues because he had not certain vices. You must miss him.”
“That isn’t a very kind description,” she said.
“I was not trying to be kind,” he answered. “I am not of a kindly disposition. You may observe that I do not lay claim to any of the virtues. It is safe to conclude that what you don’t claim will never be conceded to you. These facts once grasped simplify life enormously. But I waste time in attempting to teach you worldly wisdom. You live in a world of illusions.”
He spoke very little during the remainder of the time he sat at table. His manner was preoccupied, and his face looked grim. Esmé felt that he regretted having yielded to her request; he resented interference with his routine. When he rose from the table, which he did before any of the others, he turned to her and said in his curt way:
“Please be ready in half an hour from now.”
Then he pushed his chair back and walked quickly from the room.
The old gentleman on her right asked Esmé to make a fourth at bridge. He looked disappointed when she declined. She explained that she was going for a walk.
“It is good to be young. But don’t overdo it,” he counselled.
“The air is so wonderful; I am never tired up here,” she replied.