"Oh, Mr. Prentice! Why?"
"Because you don't really think my advice worth a straw. You don't want my advice, or anybody else's. No one is capable of advising you. You just do things in your own way—and a very remarkable way it is."
"But really and truly I—"
"No. Not a bit of it. You fancied that my feathers might have been rubbed the wrong way by recent surprises; and ever since I came into this room, you have been most delicately smoothing my ruffled plumage."
"Oh, no," said Mrs. Marsden-Thompson demurely, "I assure you—"
"Yes, yes. But, my dear, it wasn't in the least necessary. I am just as pleased as Punch, and I have quite forgiven you for keeping me so long in the dark."
"On my honour," she said earnestly, "I wouldn't have kept you in the dark for one day, if I could have avoided doing so. It was most painful to me, dear Mr. Prentice, to practice—or rather, to allow of any deception where you were concerned.... But my course was so difficult to steer."
"You steered it splendidly."
"But I do want you to understand. I shall be miserable if I think that you could ever harbour the slightest feeling of resentment."
"Of course I shan't."