Hyacinth.

'You don't know it, but when you're not in love you're not yourself,'
Anne continued. 'It's all you live for.'

'Oh, Anne!'

'It's quite true. It's nearly three months since you--had an attack.
Blair was the last. Now you're beginning to take the same sort of
interest in Cecil Reeve.'

'How mistaken you are, Anne! I don't take at all the same interest in
him. It's a totally different thing. I don't really even like him.'

'You wouldn't go out today if you were expecting him.'

'Yes, but I'm not ... and he doesn't care two straws about me. Once he
said he never worshipped in a crowded temple!'

'It's a curious coincidence that ever since then you've been out to
everyone else,' said Anne.

'I don't really like him--so very much. When he _does_ smile, of course
it's rather nice. Why does he hate me?'

'I can't think,' said Anne.

'He doesn't hate me! How can you say so?' cried Hyacinth.

'Doesn't he?'