"I wish you weren't going," he said. "How horribly I shall miss you! I sha'n't stop here. Why aren't you going to Homburg, instead of to people in Scotland? Then we might have met again."
"Are you going to Homburg to be 'cured'?"
"I think I shall go there. Or to Antwerp. Yes, I shall go to Antwerp first. I was there when I was a boy. I was happy in Antwerp."
"How funny you are," she said involuntarily.
"I've never found anyone much entertained by me. How?"
"You'll go to Antwerp, of all places in the world, because you liked it when you were a boy! Antwerp will disappoint you—too."
"You could always stab deep with a monosyllable," he said, "but you used to have more mercy."
"I'm sorry I have deteriorated," said the lady rather stiffly.
She leant back in her chair, and a minute passed in silence. She gave her attention to the orchestra, tapping time with the tip of a shoe.
"Does it amuse you to say cruel things to me?" asked Conrad. "If it does, by all means say what you like."