He smiled faintly.
"Sorry, are you?"
"Yes. If you cared for him."
"I'm afraid I didn't very much. It's not as if I'd seen a lot of him."
"You said it's made a difference."
"So it has. He's left me a good four hundred a year."
"Oh—that sort of difference."
"My dear girl, four hundred a year makes all the difference; it's no use pretending that it doesn't."
"I'm not pretending. You sounded sorry and I was sorry for you. That was all."
At that his egoism winced. It was as if she had accused him of pretending to be sorry.