“I mean my own past,” I said. “I went to a great many of those places with your mother.”
“Ah, the pictures are beautiful,” murmured the Countess, glancing at Stanmer.
“Have you lately looked at any of them?” I asked. “Have you gone to the galleries with him?”
She hesitated a moment, smiling. “It seems to me that your question is a little impertinent. But I think you are like that.”
“A little impertinent? Never. As I say, your mother did me the honour, more than once, to accompany me to the Uffizzi.”
“My mother must have been very kind to you.”
“So it seemed to me at the time.”
“At the time only?”
“Well, if you prefer, so it seems to me now.”
“Eh,” said the Countess, “she made sacrifices.”