I wonder if that is simply my imagination?" She watched me
very closely as she spoke.
"Rather not. You've absolutely summed me up. With you beside me,
stimulating and all that sort of rot, don't you know, I should show a
flash of speed which would astonish you."
"I wish I could be certain."
"Take a chance on it."
She shook her head.
"I must be certain. Marriage is such a gamble. I have just been staying
with my sister Hilda and her husband----"
"Dear old Harold Bodkin. I know him well. In fact, I've a standing
invitation to go down there and stay as long as I like. Harold is one
of my best pals. Harold is a corker. Good old Harold is----"
"I would rather you didn't eulogize him, Reggie. I am extremely angry
with Harold. He is making Hilda perfectly miserable."
"What on earth do you mean? Harold wouldn't dream of hurting a fly.
He's one of those dreamy, sentimental chumps who----"
"It is precisely his sentimentality which is at the bottom of the whole
trouble. You know, of course, that Hilda is not his first wife?"
"That's right. His first wife died about five years ago."
"He still cherishes her memory."
"Very sporting of him."
"Is it! If you were a girl, how would you like to be married to a man
who was always making you bear in mind that you were only number two in
his affections; a man whose idea of a pleasant conversation was a
string of anecdotes illustrating what a dear woman his first wife was.
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