He expected her to show great surprise, but the surprise was his when she replied almost casually: "Oh yes, she was jealous of you once—that first evening we met at the Head's house—do you remember?"
No, he did not remember. At least, he did now that she called it to his memory, but he had not remembered until then. Curious ...
He was half-disappointed that she was so calm and unconcerned about it all. He had anticipated some sort of a scene, either of surprise, remorse, indignation, or sympathy. Instead of which she just said "Oh, yes," and indulged in some perfectly irrelevant reminiscence. Well, not perhaps irrelevant, but certainly inappropriate in the circumstances.
"You see," he went on, hating her blindly because she was so serene; "you see she generously invites you here, because she thinks I like you to come. Well, of course, I do, but then, I don't want to make it hard for her. You understand what I mean? I think it is very generous of her to—to act as she does."
"I think it is very foolish unless she has the idea that in time she can conquer her jealousy.... But I quite understand, Mr. Speed. I won't come any more."
"I hope you don't think——"
"Fortunately I have other things to think about. I assure you I'm not troubling at all. Even loss of friendship——"
"But," he interrupted eagerly, "surely it's not going to mean that, Miss Harrington? Just because you don't come here doesn't mean that you and I——"
She laughed in his face as she replied, cutting short his remarks: "My dear Mr. Speed, you are too much of an egoist. It wasn't your friendship I was thinking about—it was Helen's. You forget that I've been Helen's friend for ten years.... Well, good-bye...."
The last straw! He shook hands with her stiffly.