Elizabeth. I’m sure he did.
Lady Kitty. Oh, of course in the beginning it was heavenly. We felt so brave and adventurous and we were so much in love. The first two years were wonderful. People cut me, you know, but I didn’t mind. I thought love was everything. It is a little uncomfortable when you come upon an old friend and go towards her eagerly, so glad to see her, and are met with an icy stare.
Elizabeth. Do you think friends like that are worth having?
Lady Kitty. Perhaps they’re not very sure of themselves. Perhaps they’re honestly shocked. It’s a test one had better not put one’s friends to if one can help it. It’s rather bitter to find how few one has.
Elizabeth. But one has some.
Lady Kitty. Yes, they ask you to come and see them when they’re quite certain no one will be there who might object to meeting you. Or else they say to you: “My dear, you know I’m devoted to you, and I wouldn’t mind at all, but my girl’s growing up—I’m sure you understand; you won’t think it unkind of me if I don’t ask you to the house?”
Elizabeth. [Smiling.] That doesn’t seem to me very serious.
Lady Kitty. At first I thought it rather a relief, because it threw Hughie and me together more. But you know, men are very funny. Even when they are in love they’re not in love all day long. They want change and recreation.
Elizabeth. I’m not inclined to blame them for that, poor dears.