It had all happened so suddenly—to him even more than to me. Crammed into a single phrase, it was Helen's return to his life, and I think he wanted to talk about it quite as much as I did.
It had astonished him, he admitted; for he had never believed it possible that they could be friends again. And especially after the trouncing she gave him about the Karelsky business....
"She apologized for that," he told me. "Not that I wanted her to—a great deal of what she said, from her point of view, was quite true.... But she did apologize, anyway. And then, of course, we had the job of house-hunting."
I asked him if he had had any idea that she was coming, and he answered: "Not the slightest. I was reading in the garden when she suddenly came in by the side gate. She was looking for Taplow—to ask him about the houses, I suppose."
"But she knew you were staying at the hotel."
"Oh, yes, but it wasn't me she came to see. But for Taplow being out, and her looking for him, we might never have met."
"Did she suggest that you should show her round the district?"
He said: "I think we both suggested it together. She said she didn't mind walking, and so naturally...."
After a pause he went on: "I tell you candidly—I didn't think either of us could do it.... Do you remember the other day we were talking about her and I told you she was different? Well, she is different, in one way, but in another way she's just the same—just the same as if—as if nothing had ever happened.... Do you know what I mean?"
I knew what he meant.