"One of my own, thanks."
"You're very unkind to me," said Perigal.
"In not taking your cigarette?"
"You ignore everything that's been between us. You look on me as heartless, callous; you don't make allowances."
"For what?"
"My cursed temperament. No one knows better than I what a snob I am at heart. When you were poor, I did not value you. Now—"
"Now?"
"Can you ask?"
A joy possessed Mavis's heart; she felt that her moment of triumph was near.
Perigal went on: