“Is it? Honestly, Felix, it looked almost as if you were trying to avoid me.” Kennaston wondered how he could ever have loved a woman of so little penetration.
“No, I didn’t recognize you, with that veil on,” he repeated. “And I had no idea you were in Lichfield. I do hope you are going to pay us all a nice long visit—”
“But, no, I am leaving on this train—”
“Oh, I say, but that’s too bad! And I never knew you were here!” he lamented.
“I only stopped overnight with Avis. I am on my way home—”
“To Leonard?” And Kennaston smiled. “How do you get on with him nowadays?”
“We are—contented, I suppose. He has his business—and politics. He is doing perfectly splendidly now, you know. And I have my memories.” Her voice changed. “I have my memories, Felix! Nothing—nothing can take that from me!”
“Good God, Muriel, there are a dozen people watching us—”
“What does that matter!”
“Well, it matters a lot to me. I live here, you know.”