"That was a splendid sermon, Arnold," she said, with an effort at enthusiasm, and a subconscious question as to whether she really meant what she said.
Imrie was thoughtful. "I did my best. The congregation seemed to like it. But it could be done much better."
"So could most things."
"Perfection is no trifle, is it," he smiled. "But let's not talk of such dreadful things as sermons. I haven't seen you for ages...."
"Six weeks, to be exact," she interrupted.
"Exactly!" he thanked her with his eyes for the implication, and woman-like, she took away his pleasure deliberately.
"The accident happened the day after you left."
"Oh." He was silent for a moment. "That was a splendid thing, Judith—your taking that fellow in. Just like you. But hasn't he been something of a—well, a care?"
"On the contrary. I've enjoyed him intensely."
"But don't you find him—a little uncouth?" he persisted.