Alma clapped her hands, an unusual expression of joy for her. 'We are cheering up all round!' she exclaimed. 'Now, if only you could light on something fortunate.'
He gave her a quick look.
'What do you mean by that?'
'Only that you haven't seemed in very good spirits lately.'
'Much as usual, I think.—Many people at Putney?'
'About a hundred and twenty. Compliments showered on me; I do so wish you could have heard them. Somebody told me that some man asked her how it was he didn't know my name—he took me for a professional violinist.'
'Well, no doubt you are as good as many of them.'
'You really think that?' said Alma, pulling her chair a little nearer to the fire and looking eagerly at him.
'Why shouldn't you be? You have the same opportunities, and make all possible use of them.'
Alma was silent for a few ticks of the clock. Once, and a second time, she stole a glance at Harvey's face; then grasping with each hand the arms of her chair, and seeming to string herself for an effort, she spoke in a half-jesting tone.