Tenterhooks. Ada Leverson
to the fire. 'It makes me nervous. I have gradually accustomed Bruce to my idea by removing one thing at a time—photographs, pictures, horrid old wedding presents, all the little things people have. They suggest too many different trains of thought. They worry me. He's getting used to it now. He says, soon there'll be nothing left but a couple of chairs and a bookcase!'
'And how right! I've had rather the same idea in my house, but I couldn't keep it up. It's different for a man alone; things seem to accumulate; especially pictures. I know such a lot of artists. I'm very unfortunate in that respect. … I really feel I oughtn't to have turned up like this, Mrs. Ottley.'
'Why not?'
'You're very kind. … Excuse my country manners, but how nice your husband is. He was very kind to me.'
'He liked you very much, too.'
'He seems charming,' he repeated, then said with a change of tone and with his occasional impulsive brusqueness, 'I wonder—does he ever jar on you in any way?'
'Oh no. Never. He couldn't. He amuses me,' Edith replied softly.
'Oh, does he? … If I had the opportunity I wonder if I should amuse you,' he spoke thoughtfully.
'No; I don't think you would at all,' said Edith, looking him straight in the face.
'That's quite fair,' he laughed, and seemed rather pleased. 'You mean I should bore you to death! Do forgive me, Mrs. Ottley. Let's go on with our talk of last night. … I feel it's rather like the Palace of Truth here; I don't know why. There must be something in the atmosphere—I seem to find it difficult not to think aloud—Vincy, now—do you see much of Vincy?'
'Oh yes; he comes here most days, or we talk on the telephone.'
'I see; he's your confidant, and you're his. Dear Vincy. By the way, he asked me last night to go to a tea-party at his flat next week. He was going to ask one or two other kindred spirits—as I think they're called. To see something—some collection. Including you, of course?'
'I shall certainly go,' said Edith, 'whether he asks me or not.'
Aylmer seemed to be trying to leave. He nearly got up once or twice and sat down again.
'Well, I shall see you tonight,' he said. 'At eight.'
'Yes.'
'What shall you wear, Mrs. Ottley?'
'Oh, I thought, perhaps, my mauve chiffon? What do you advise?' she smiled.
'Not what you wore last night?'
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