She found no one to admire, and whenever she spoke of anyone it was to say something disagreeable. It made Philip uneasy. He supposed that next day she would tell the girls in the shop that he had taken her out and that he had bored her to death. He disliked her, and yet, he knew not why, he wanted to be with her. On the way home he asked:
“I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself?”
“Rather.”
“Will you come out with me again one evening?”
“I don’t mind.”
He could never get beyond such expressions as that. Her indifference maddened him.
“That sounds as if you didn’t much care if you came or not.”
“Oh, if you don’t take me out some other fellow will. I need never want for men who’ll take me to the theatre.”
Philip was silent. They came to the station, and he went to the booking-office.
“I’ve got my season,” she said.