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‘Mary, look at me! I thought – I could have sworn—’ He broke off, as though he did not know how to go on.
She did look up, but very fleetingly. ‘That it was going to be me?’
‘Yes,’ he said bluntly.
‘Well, so did I, at one time. Not that I had any real reason to, and as a matter of fact it wouldn’t have done at all. Hugh’s a dear, but he’s not my type, and I’m not his.’
His clasp on her hand tightened. ‘Mary, is that the truth? I thought— And he’s so much nearer you in age, that I made sure—’
‘Maurice,’ interrupted Mary, crimson-cheeked, ‘wasn’t it Aunt Ermy with you – ever?’
‘Ermyntrude? Good God, no! Mary, this isn’t the moment to ask you, but could you possibly – is there the slightest hope—’
‘Oh, Maurice, I think I must always have— Oh, look out, here she is!’
‘And a nice hot-water bottle in Janet’s bed, Mary dear, don’t forget!’ said Ermyntrude, coming downstairs again. ‘I always say there’s nothing like a hot-water bottle for real comfort when you’re in trouble.’
