Half-past six. She had given up Wyndham and her belief in psychical prophecy, and was trying to find relief from unpleasant reflections in a book, when Wyndham actually appeared. He came in with the confident smile of the friend sure of a welcome at all hours.
"Forgive my calling at this unholy time. I knew if I came earlier I should find you surrounded by an admiring crowd. I wanted to see you alone."
"Quite right. I am always at home to friends."
They dropped into one of those trivial dialogues which were Audrey's despair in her intercourse with Wyndham.
Suddenly his tone changed. He took up "London Legends."
"As you've already guessed, my egregious vanity brings me here. I don't know whether you've had time to look at the thing——"
"I sat up to finish it last night."
"Indeed. What did you think of it?"
"Don't ask me. I didn't criticise—sympathy comes first."
"Excuse me, it doesn't. Criticism comes first with all of us. Sympathy comes last of all—when we know the whole of life, and understand it."