“Unless there is some one else,” said Mrs. Agar, with an exaggerated significance suggestive of the servants' hall.
Dora did not answer at once. They walked on for a few moments in silence, passing other guests walking in couples. Then Dora replied with a succinctness acquired from her father:
“Generalities about women,” she said, “are always a mistake. Indeed, all generalities are dangerous. But if you and Arthur care to apply this to me, you are at liberty to do so. Whatever generalities you apply and whatever you say will make no difference to the main question. Moreover, you will, perhaps, be acting a kinder part if you give Arthur to understand once for all that my decision is final.”
“As you like, dear, as you like,” muttered Mrs. Agar, apparently abandoning the argument, whereas in reality she had not yet begun it.
“How do you do, dear Mrs. Martin?” she went on in the same breath, bowing and smiling to a lady who passed them at that moment.
“Of course,” she said, returning in a final way to the question after a few moments' silence, “of course I do not believe all I hear; in fact, I contradict a good deal. But I have been told that gossips talked about you a good deal last year, at the time of Jem's death. I think it only fair that you should know.”
“Thank you,” said Dora curtly.
“Of course, dear, I didn't believe anything about it.”
“Thank you,” said Dora again.
“I should have been sorry to do so.”