“Then,” said Wilbraham, “she will. She always does what she likes.”
“She does what she likes,” agreed Mrs Brodrick smiling, “but she doesn’t always like what she does.”
“Who does?” Wilbraham said, with a queer quick ring in the question. Teresa caught it, and twisted the conversation.
“Colonel Maxwell picked up a Garofalo to-day—signed and all.”
“Then he will be happy for a week,” said her grandmother.
“Unless Mary shakes him out of his convictions. It’s idiotic of her, but she says she can’t help it after a day’s ravings.”
“Idiotic,” repeated Wilbraham.
“What’s idiotic?” asked Sylvia, standing up by the lamp to recover a dropped stitch.
There was a momentary pause.
“To open a man’s eyes to his mistakes, so long as he’s pleased. It’s so unnecessary,” Wilbraham answered sharply.