'Don't speak as if I were a baby!'

'Do you mind telling me what we're quarrelling about, my dear? I only
ask for information.'

'Oh, we're _not_. You're awfully sweet. You know I love you, Vincy.'

'I thought, perhaps, it was really all right.'

'Sometimes I feel miserable and jealous.'

He smiled. 'Ah! What are you jealous of, Mavis?'

'Oh, everything--everyone--all the people you meet.'

'Is that all? Well, you're the only person I ever meet--by appointment,
at any rate.'

'Well--the Ottleys!'

His eye instinctively travelled to a photograph of Edith, all tulle and
roses; a rather fascinating portrait.

'What about _her_?' asked Mavis. 'What price Mrs Ottley?'

'Really, Mavis!--What price? No price. Nothing about her; she's just a
great friend of mine. I think I told you that before. ... What a
frightfully bright light there is in the room,' Vincy said. He got up
and drew the blind down. He came back to her.