“If you should ever see her you’d understand how absurd that supposition is.”
“How shall I ever see her?” returned Mr. Vetch. “In the absence of that privilege I think there’s something in my idea.”
“She looks quite over my head,” said Hyacinth simply. “It’s by no means impossible you may see her. She wants to know my friends, to know the people who live in the Place. And she would take a particular interest in you on account of your opinions.”
“Ah I’ve no opinions now—none any more!” the old man broke out sadly. “I only had them to frighten Pinnie.”
“She was easily frightened,” said Hyacinth.
“Yes, and easily reassured. Well, I like to know about your life,” his neighbour sighed irrelevantly. “But take care the great lady doesn’t lead you too far.”
“How do you mean, too far?”
“Isn’t she a conspiring socialist, a dabbler in plots and treasons? Doesn’t she go in for a general rectification, as Eustache calls it?”
Hyacinth had a pause. “You should see the place—you should see what she wears, what she eats and drinks.”
“Ah you mean that she’s inconsistent with her theories? My dear boy, she’d be a droll woman if she weren’t. At any rate I’m glad of it.”