"I don't think so," he answered. "He knew I was only running over for a few days."
"He tells me it is the first holiday he has taken for years," she said. "His profession seems to engross him. I suppose it is an engrossing one. But he oughtn't to exhaust his strength. I needn't ask you if you've read his novel. What do you think of it?"
"I think it extremely clever work," said Turquand.
"And it's been a great success, too, eh? 'One of the books of the year,' The Times called it."
"It has certainly given him a literary position."
"How splendid!" she said. "Yes, that's what I thought it: 'extremely clever,' brilliant—most brilliant! His parents must be very proud of him?"
"They're dead," said Turquand.
Mrs. Walford was surprised again. She had "somehow taken it for granted that they were living," and as she understood that he had no brothers or sisters, it must be very lonely for him?
"He sees a good deal of me" said her escort, "and I'm quite a festive sort of person when you know me."
Her giggle announced that she found this entertaining, but the approval did not loosen his tongue. She fanned herself strenuously, and decided that, besides being untidy, he was dense.