passion.

He heard the door open gently, and got up. Lady Sellingworth came in.
She had not changed her dress, which was a simple day dress of black.
She had only taken off her fur and hat, and now came towards him, still
wearing white gloves and holding a large black fan in her hand.

"What's that you've got?" she asked. "Oh--my book!"

"Yes. I took it up because I wondered what you were reading. I think
what people read by preference tells one something of what they are. I
was interested to know what you read. Forgive my curiosity."

She sat down by the fire, opened the fan, and held it between her face
and the flames.

"I read all sorts of things."

"Novels?"

"I very seldom read a novel now. Here is our tea. But I know you would
rather have a whisky-and-soda."

"As a rule I should, but not to-night. I want to drink what you are
drinking."

"And to smoke what I am smoking?" she said, with a faintly ironic smile.

"Yes--please."