“Huh?”
“Jacóbus, how late will you want the carriage?”
“I sha’n’t want the carriage.”
“Not want the carriage?” Harriet well knew how he enjoyed driving away from the railway station amid an admiring crowd of acquaintances who walked.
“No, I shall come home on foot. Go you for a drive, Harriet; it’s rather a nice day. It’ll put some color in your pale cheeks.”
She looked across at him gratefully.
“Law!” he said, “to think how you’ve gone off of late. Who’d have thought it? You were a deuced fine woman, Harriet, in days gone by.”
“Oh, I’m a fine woman yet,” she answered. “You must leave me a little time.” She got up and walked to the window. “Willem is waiting,” she said. “Good-bye. Mind you don’t sit in a draught.”