"You mustn't mind what 'e says," said Rose, when they were alone together. "'E sometimes says things to me that make me fair jump."
"I didn't jump," said Jane, "did I?"
"No. You took it a deal better than I should have done."
It was odd, but Rose was ten times more at her ease since Tanqueray's awful reference to Hambleby. And she seemed happier, too.
"You see," said Jane, "there wasn't much to take. Hambleby's only a man in a book I'm writing."
"Oh—only a man in a book."
Rose looked depressed. There was a silence which even Jane found it difficult to break. Then she had an inspiration.
"I'm supposed to be in love with him because I can't think or talk about anything else."
"That's just like Mr. Tanqueray," said Rose.
"Only he isn't in love with the people in his books," said Jane.