"In Flanders. With the Ambulance Corps. She has been out since the beginning."
Kathleen's ironic smile comprehended and epitomized his entire married life, its failure and the causes for its failure; nay, went still further back, and assumed a triumphant intention on her own part that he should have undergone this second and more poignant disillusion.
"We're in the way here. Good-bye."
He overtook her, and walked by her side towards Trafalgar Square.
"One minute. You've told me nothing about yourself."
"Touching display of interest!"
"Pat might have said that," he mused dispassionately.
She slightly lifted her brows. "Surely there can be no resemblance between Patricia and myself?"
"You are being a little bit ungenerous," said the man, gently enough. "Lulu Collins told me you held a very responsible post in a high-explosive factory; do you like the work?"
"Yes. It's all-absorbing, which is the main thing. I was meant for tough employment, I think; it strengthens my sinews. I'm only in London for the day, sent down to interview the Minister of Munitions. What are you doing? Still stuck with Leslie Campbell?"