The talk degenerated into anecdotes of canvassing, and ran shallow. My cousin was just gathering that Mrs. Bunting and Miss Bunting had been with the Sea Lady and had gone into the town to a shop, when they returned. Chatteris rose to greet them and explained—what had been by no means apparent before—that he was on his way to Adeline, and after a few further trivialities he and Melville went on together.
A brief silence fell between them.
“Who is that Miss Waters?” asked Chatteris.
“Friend of Mrs. Bunting,” prevaricated Melville.
“So I gather.… She seems a very charming person.”
“She is.”
“She’s interesting. Her illness seems to throw her up. It makes a passive thing of her, like a picture or something that’s—imaginary. Imagined—anyhow. She sits there and smiles and responds. Her eyes—have something intimate. And yet——”
My cousin offered no assistance.
“Where did Mrs. Bunting find her.”
My cousin had to gather himself together for a second or so.