"I am not worth making out."
"One thing I must tell you, Vera, even at the risk of agitating you. It is all over with that woman."
"Which woman?"
"Which? Mrs. Bellenden. There has never been so much as a whisper about any other since your marriage."
"Oh, it is all over? I thought so."
"Vera, what indifference! You might be talking of somebody in Mars. Yes, dear, it is quite at an end. They had a desperate quarrel; quite the worst of many frightful rows. There was furniture smashed, I believe—Sèvres and things—and now she has consoled herself."
"Really?"
"A German Prince. One of the German attachés told me he would marry her if he dared. Well, sweet, I must be trudging. I'm dining out, one of those nice little winter dinners that I love. You must make haste and get quite, quite well."
This was what Susie always said to a sick friend, even when the friend was moribund. The "quite, quite" had such a cheering sound.
"By the by, Lady O. told me you have had the Princess Hermione?"