"Poor dear," said she, "he's still worrying about those blessed bulbs of mine—of yours, I mean."
"Don't, Edie. As if I wanted to take your bulbs away from you. I'm not jealous."
"No more am I," said Edie. "Let's say both our bulbs. I wish he wouldn't garden quite so much, though. It always makes his head ache."
"Why does he do it, then?" asked Anne calmly.
Her calmness irritated Edith.
"Oh, why does Walter do anything? Because he's an angel!"
Anne's silence gave her the opening she was looking for.
"You know, you used to think so, too."
"Of course I did," said Anne evasively.
"And equally of course, you don't, now you've married him?"