Still, he had been perfect. She would always remember him with
worship. She meant never to love anyone else all her life.
When she said good-bye she said to him:
'I do hope you'll be very happy.'
He laughed, coloured a little, and said as he squeezed her hand warmly:
'You've been a brick to me, Miss Clay. I shall certainly tell you if I
ever am happy.'
She wondered what that meant, but she preferred to try to forget it.
* * * * *
When Dulcie arrived, as she had been told, at a quarter to eight,
dressed in a black evening dress (she didn't care to wear uniform at the
theatre), she found Lady Conroy, who was lying on the sofa in a
tea-gown, utterly astonished to see her.
'My dear! you've come to dine with me after all?'
'No, indeed. I've dined. You said I was to come in time to go to the
play.'
'The play? Oh! I forgot. I'm so sorry. I've sent the tickets away. I
forgot I'd anyone to go with me. I'm afraid it can't be helped now. Are
you very disappointed? Poor child. Well, dear, you'll dine with me,
anyhow, as you've come, and I can tell you all about what we shall have
to do, and everything.
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