“Gaspare! Why?”
“Perhaps you will laugh at me! But I often think Gaspare understands Madre better than any of us, Monsieur Emile.”
“Gaspare has been with your mother a very long time.”
“Yes, and in his way he is very clever. Haven’t you noticed it?”
Artois did not answer this. But he said:
“Follow your instincts, Vere. I don’t think they will often lead you wrong.”
At tea-time Hermione came from her bedroom looking calm and smiling. There was something deliberate about her serenity, and her eyes were tired, but she said the little rest had done her good. Vere instinctively felt that her mother did not wish to be observed, or to have any fuss made about her condition, and Artois took Vere’s cue. When tea was over, Artois said:
“Well, I suppose I ought to be going.”
“Oh no,” Hermione said. “We asked you for a long day. That means dinner.”
The cordiality in her voice sounded determined, and therefore formal. Artois felt chilled. For a moment he looked at her doubtfully.