"His—I don't know," said John weakly.
Desire looked sceptical.
"Don't fancy I want to question you," she said with haughtiness. "But I don't see how you can help knowing. You are his doctor. And his friend, too. He must have told you. Didn't he?"
"He mentioned something—er—that is to say—"
"Oh, don't hesitate! Don't fancy that I mind. I don't, of course. And I am not curious. Although any-one might be curious. I won't ask you questions. I am only mildly interested. It is entirely for his own good that I should like to know if she is quite as wonderful as he thinks. Is she, John?"
"I—I don't know," stammered the wretched John.
Desire nodded patiently.
"You mean you don't know how wonderful he thought her? But did you think her very wonderful, John?"
"No, I didn't"
"You thought her plain?"