Harry held out his hand to Amy, seeing that Patricia was ready. Amy ignored the hand. She never shook hands with anybody. It had always seemed to her more masculine and professional not to do so.
"You ready?" Harry asked Patricia.
"Awkward questions," murmured Amy, almost unheard. "Well, cheerio, Patricia. Perhaps one day we shall meet again. I shall be here, I expect."
"Do try to go away," whispered Patricia. "Really try. It's so bad for you to be alone." Harry was outside the door by now, and the parting was solitary. "Try to go away—just for change of thought and scene."
Amy shook her head—almost with a shudder.
"Now go," she said. "Harry's waiting. And Patricia—what I told you was true. D'you see? Not spiteful."
"I know. I know." Patricia pressed her hand and was gone.
viii
Outside, in the street, Harry was waiting.
"What a sight that woman is! Silly little fool!" he explained. "She's a cat, too. Did you notice that?"