He answered, a trifle vacantly: "Why do you?"
"Because it will make Helen jealous."
He became as if suddenly galvanised into attention. "What! Jealous! Jealous!—Of whom?—Of what?—Of you having me to take you home?"
Clare shook her head. "Oh, no. Of you having me to take home."
He thought a moment and then said: "What, really?—Do you mean to tell me that——"
"Yes," she interrupted. "And of course you don't understand it, do you?—Men never understand Helen."
"And why don't they?"
"Because Helen doesn't like men, and men can never understand that."
He rejoined, heavily despondent: "Then I expect she dislikes me venomously enough. For it was I who asked her to play the piano, wasn't it?"
"She wouldn't dislike you any more for that," replied Clare. "But let's not discuss her. I hate gossiping about my friends."