"I prefer 'honour' to 'vanity.'"
"Hadn't we better leave 'honour' out of the discussion?"
She looked at him for a moment, her mouth tightly shut; then, declining his arm, she began walking slowly eastward. Opposite Bath House Eric hailed an empty taxi and told the driver to take them to Berkeley Square.
"You wouldn't like me to drop you in Ryder Street?" Barbara asked.
"Not even to gratify your love of artistic finish."
"How you hate me!" she whispered with a catch in her breath.
"No, I love you as much as ever; I need you more than ever. Whatever happens to you, I wish you all happiness. You once undertook my education, but I can tell you that you'll never find the happiness I'm wishing you till you learn to sink yourself and think of other people."
Barbara looked at him like a startled animal, then looked away.
"Haven't I sunk myself, haven't I thought of Jack before any one else for two and a half years?" she whispered.
"No, you've thought solely of yourself—with Jack as a limelight. At this moment you're thinking less of Jack or me than of your amour propre."