“What nonsense!”
“It isn’t. I feel I’m losing my nameless fascination for dogs. A poodle barked at me this afternoon in Victoria Street. One can’t expect one’s day to last for ever, though, really, some Englishwomen seem to. But, tell me, how is the beloved one?”
“Oh—to be sure! I wanted to talk to you about Rose.”
The smile became very sweet and welcoming on Mrs. Leith’s handsome round face.
“There’s nothing wrong, I’m sure. Your Rosamund sheds confidence in her dear self like a light all round her.”
“Nothing wrong—no. I didn’t mean that.”
Dion paused. Now he was with his mother he did not know how to explain himself; his reason for coming began to seem, even to himself, a little vague.
“It’s a little difficult,” he began at last, “but I’ve been wondering rather about women who are as Rosamund is just now. D’you think all women become a good deal alike at such times?”
“In spirit, do you mean?”
“Well—yes, of course.”