She wondered. “What difference?”
“Why, of the effect, as you say, of his second thoughts. Thoughts of what?”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Brook suddenly and as if it were quite simple—“I know THAT! Suspicions.”
“And of whom?”
“Why, of YOU, you goose. Of your not having done—”
“Well, what?” he persisted as she paused.
“How shall I say it? The best thing for yourself. And of Nanda’s feeling that. Don’t you see?”
In the effort of seeing, or perhaps indeed in the full act of it, poor Mitchy glared as never before. “Do you mean Van’s JEALOUS of me?”
Pressed as she was, there was something in his face that momentarily hushed her. “There it is!” she achieved however at last.
“Of ME?” Mitchy went on.