It was already very dark.
'Twenty-seven Jermyn Street,' said Edith as she jumped in.
* * * * *
Ten minutes later she was sitting next to Aylmer.
'Only for a second; I felt I must see you.'
'Fool! Angel!' said Aylmer, beaming, and kissing her hand.
'Bruce is too irritating for words today. And Madame Frabelle makes me
sick. I can't stand her. At least today.'
'Oh, Edith, don't tell me you're jealous of the woman! I won't stand it!
I shan't play.'
'Good heavens, no! Not in the least. But her society's so tedious at
times. She has such a pompous way of discovering the obvious.'
'I do believe you object to her being in love with Bruce,' said Aylmer
reproachfully. 'That's a thing I will _not_ stand.'
'Indeed I don't. Besides, she's not. Who could be?... And don't be
jealous of Bruce, Aylmer.... I know she's very motherly to him, and
kind. But she's the same to everyone.'
They talked on for a few minutes. Then Edith said:
'Good-bye. I must go.'
'Good-bye,' said Aylmer.
'Oh! Are you going to let me go already?' she asked reproachfully.
She leant over him. Some impulse seemed to draw her near to him.
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