Mitchy stared. “You’re stupendous, my dear!” he murmured.
Ah but she kept it up. “I had my idea about Aggie.”
“Oh don’t I know you had? And how you were positive about the sort of person—!”
“That she didn’t even suspect herself,” Nanda broke in, “to be? I’m equally positive now. It’s quite what I believed, only there’s ever so much more of it. More HAS come—and more will yet. You see, when there has been nothing before, it all has to come with a rush. So that if even I’m surprised of course she is.”
“And of course I am!” Mitchy’s interest, though even now not wholly unqualified with amusement, had visibly deepened. “You admit then,” he continued, “that you’re surprised?”
Nanda just hesitated. “At the mere scale of it. I think it’s splendid. The only person whose astonishment I don’t quite understand,” she added, “is Cousin Jane.”
“Oh Cousin Jane’s astonishment serves her right!”
“If she held so,” Nanda pursued, “that marriage should do everything—!”
“She shouldn’t be in such a funk at finding what it IS doing? Oh no, she’s the last one!” Mitchy declared. “I vow I enjoy her scare.”
“But it’s very bad, you know,” said Nanda.