She sent him a slightly mocking glance.
“Well, I am less delicate. I want to know it, whether she wishes me to or not. And yet I am more devoted to her than you are. I have known her for quite a long time.”
“One can learn devotion very quickly,” he said, pressing her hand before he let it go.
“In an afternoon?”
“Yes, in an afternoon.”
“Happy Lady Sellingworth!” she said.
Then she turned to go into the hotel. Just before she passed through the swing door she looked round at Craven. The movement of her young head was delicious.
“After all, in spite of the charm that won’t die,” he thought, “there’s nothing like youth for calling you.”
He thought Lady Sellingworth really more charming than Miss Van Tuyn, but he knew that the feeling of her hand in his would not have thrilled something in him, a very intimate part of himself, as he had just been thrilled.
He felt almost angry with himself as he walked away, and he muttered under his breath: