'Didn't I look nicer than Mrs Raymond?'

'That's not the point. You talk as if you were rivals on the same
platform. She's on a different plane. But he'll get tired in the end of
her indifference and remember _you_,' added Anne sardonically.

'Then he'll find I've forgotten _him_. Oh, why am I so unhappy?'

'You're too emotional, but you'll be happy through that too. Please
don't make your eyes red. There are other people in the world.
Cecil Reeve--'

'And yet there's something so fascinating about him. He's so unlike
anybody else.'

'Bosh!' said Anne. 'He's exactly like thousands of other young men. But
it just happens you've taken a fancy to him; that's the only thing that
makes him different.'

'I hate him,' said Hyacinth. 'Do you dislike him, Anne?'

'Dislike him?' said Anne, turning out one of the lights. 'No, indeed! I
loathe him!'

'But why?'

Anne went to the door.

'Because you're a fool about him,' she said somewhat cryptically.