"Not a bit. You have met someone else. Why not say so?"
"I have," said Bobby. "You know quite well, Julia, one can't help these things."
"I don't know anything about 'these things,' as you call them; I only know that you have ceased to care for me—let that suffice."
She was very calm, and a feeling came to Bobby that she did not care so very deeply for him. It was not a pleasant feeling somehow, although it gave him relief. He had expected her to weep or fly out in a temper, but she was quite calm and ordinary; he almost felt like making love to her again to see if she had cared for him, but fortunately this feeling passed.
"We'll be friends," said he.
"Absolutely," said Julia. "How could a little thing like that spoil friendship?"
Was she jesting with him or in earnest? Bitter, or just herself?
"Is she staying at the hotel?" asked she, after a moment's silence.
"She is," said Bobby.
"It's the French girl?"