"Hallo, who is it? I can't see."
"It's Archie Mannering," said Lucy.
"Oh, is it? Won't you come in?"
"Can't, thanks. Got to dress. Lovely night, isn't it? Good-night. Good-night, Lucy."
When I had driven a little way I turned and looked over my shoulder, but though I could only see the fire of John's cigarette, I imagined that I could see his face—a little puzzled, a little anxious, and very sad.
It was on that same night that he said to Lucy: "Aren't you seeing a good deal of Archie Mannering?"
And she answered:
"Am I? I suppose I am. I like him awfully."