‘Oh, must you have that sideboard?’
And I saw George nudge his elbow, to stop him speaking about it.
I said:
‘I rather like it. It belonged to Walter’s grandfather, who was a merchant in India. It is interesting to have it, I think.’
Hugo said:
‘Oh, yes . . . yes, of course! If there is a reason for it, that is quite different!’
He looked at the portrait of the grandfather, a big portrait in oils, badly painted, but he said nothing about it.
He said:
‘That room upstairs is awfully nice! that drawing-room, with the steps down to the garden, and I am sure you can make the garden awfully nice.’
I had hardly seen Hugo, since I had been engaged; only once or twice, at parties; at Campden Hill Square, and at Mollie’s. I did not want to see him much just then.