"But quite inimitable. You're out early this morning, sir?"
"My dear Philip, it is close on noon! I have been to see Cleone."
Philip picked up a nail-polisher and passed it gently across his fingers.
"Ah?"
"Philip, I am worried."
"Yes?" Philip was intent on his nails. "And why?"
"I don't understand the child! I could have sworn she was dying for you to return!"
Philip glanced up quickly.
"That is true?"
"I thought so. At home—yes, I am certain of it! But now she seems a changed being." He frowned, looking at his son. Philip was again occupied with his hands. "She is in excellent spirits; she tells me that she enjoys every moment of every day. She was in ecstasies! I spoke of you and she was quite indifferent. What have you done to make her so, Philip?"