"Oh," said May, slowly and doubtfully, and not looking as if she were really concerned in the matter.
"May ought to see the cathedral, Jim," said Lady Dashwood, "so, if you do happen to be going to Christ Church, would you have time to take her over it and make the proper learned observations on it, which I can't do, to save my life?"
The Warden's eyes were now fixed on May. "You would like to see it?" he asked.
"You, May," said Lady Dashwood. It seemed necessary to make it very clear to May that they were both talking about her.
"I?" said May, with her eyes downcast. "Oh, please don't trouble. You mustn't when you're so busy. I can see the cathedral any time. I really like looking at churches—quite alone."
The Warden's blue eyes darkened, but May did not see them, she had raised her paper and was smiling vaguely at the print.
The Warden said, "As you like, Mrs. Dashwood. But I am not too busy to show you anything in Oxford you want to see."
"Thank you," said May, vaguely. "Thanks so much! Some time when you are less busy, I shall ask you to show me something."
The Warden looked at her for a more definite reply. She seemed to be unaware that he was waiting for it, and when she heard the movement of his robes, and his steps and then the hall-door close, she looked round the room and said "Oh!" again vaguely, and then she raised her eyebrows as if surprised.
Lady Dashwood made no remark, she left the room and went into the hall. The irony of the situation was growing more and more acute, but there was nothing to be done but to keep silence.