“Very kind of you to say so—jolly flattering to the theatre people—they ought to go up one.”
He had been fumbling, at intervals, for his eyeglass. Now, having dropped his hat, stick, and gloves, and only retaining his clutch on his parcel, he at last succeeded in jerking his glass into a stationary position in front of his eye. He turned towards me. As he did so he beamed all over, stood up, and advanced towards me with what he possibly intended for a seraphic smile, but which did not strike me in that light at all.
“’Pon my word, Miss Norah, fancy you sitting there all the time and my not noticing you—only fancy. How very strange! How are you? I needn’t ask; you always are so fit; how do you manage? I never saw you looking fitter than you are looking just now—does one’s eyesight good to look at you. Cannot understand how I came to overlook you—so singular.”
The idea of that man talking to me like that—after the way he had treated me—put me all on end, as I let him see.
“It is not at all singular. On the contrary, you have always treated me in exactly the same manner. I have sat in the same room with you for hours and hours, and you have paid no more attention to me than if I was an unnecessary piece of furniture. I doubt if you have ever spoken twenty consecutive words to me in your life.”
The wretch was not at all abashed. That afternoon everybody seemed to be incapable of shame—particularly those who ought to have been most keenly alive to it. It is a disagreeable world. Talk about brazen-faced, impudent deceitfulness! I believe that all men are capable of anything; I am convinced they are.
That Hammond creature went blundering on as calmly and easily as if I had not said what ought to have made him writhe.
“Can only assure you that if I haven’t spoken twenty consecutive words to you, I’ll make up for it now—only like to have the chance. Feel I could talk to you for ever—sure I could. Like gloves? Sure to. All girls like gloves—get through lots of them. Here’s a box full; find them rather a decent sort; hope you’ll do me the honour of wearing them.”
He held out to me the parcel of gloves which he had just been announcing, in the presence of us all, that he had bought to pay the debt which he had lost to Eveleen. That did freeze me. I sat up as straight as a beanpole.
“I don’t understand you, Mr Hammond.”