"I don't know. He hasn't any definite plans."
"Do you think he wants—he would like—to be invited here?"
"I'm rather afraid he doesn't want to go anywhere."
"Or to see anybody?"
"Not at present."
I suppose my answers gave her an impression of hostility, for she said, bitterly smiling: "You don't particularly want him to see me, do you?"
"I'm not very keen, I admit."
"Why not?"
"Need you ask?"
She laughed and retorted: "Don't be afraid.... I haven't the slightest desire to see him. There are some things I can't forgive."