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taken the trouble to go out and post it when Philip thought
he was in bed.
He read it with a sickening palpitation of his heart, but
gave no outward sign of surprise. He handed it back to Mil-
dred with a smile, calmly.
‘Did you enjoy your lunch?’
‘Rather,’ she said emphatically.
He felt that his hands were trembling, so he put them
under the table.
‘You mustn’t take Griffiths too seriously. He’s just a but-
terfly, you know.’
She took the letter and looked at it again.
‘I can’t help it either,’ she said, in a voice which she tried
to make nonchalant. ‘I don’t know what’s come over me.’
‘It’s a little awkward for me, isn’t it?’ said Philip.
She gave him a quick look.
‘You’re taking it pretty calmly, I must say.’
‘What do you expect me to do? Do you want me to tear
out my hair in handfuls?’
‘I knew you’d be angry with me.’
‘The funny thing is, I’m not at all. I ought to have known
this would happen. I was a fool to bring you together. I
know perfectly well that he’s got every advantage over me;
he’s much jollier, and he’s very handsome, he’s more amus-
ing, he can talk to you about the things that interest you.’
‘I don’t know what you mean by that. If I’m not clever I
can’t help it, but I’m not the fool you think I am, not by a
long way, I can tell you. You’re a bit too superior for me, my
young friend.’