his. Not as if he thought himself better than other people—one could deal with an expression like that—but as though he felt grieved that other people were not better themselves. Do you understand? And can you imagine anything more irritating?"
"He was always like that," said George. "It's a manner that gives a lot of offence."
"Naturally it does," said Grace, "and yet I can't break him of it; in fact, I can't explain it to him. We are nearly home now," she went on. "It has been such a help to me, to be able to talk to you like this. I am so much alone with my own thoughts. I think it must be good for me to speak out sometimes."
"How is it we saw so little of each other—before you married?" said George. "I feel as though I had missed something."
Grace blushed, and stumbled a little as she walked.
"Take care," he said, and caught hold of her arm.
"Thank you," said Grace. " I think I trod on a piece of coal."
"These ruffians are not careful enough," said George, savagely.
"What a ridiculous idea it is to pour coal through a hole in the pavement." And then they both laughed a little uneasily.
As they reached the house, they saw Godfrey standing on the doorstep. George turned red, and felt guilty. He did not accept Godfrey's warm invitation to stay for dinner.
Provence was carrying an immense bunch of daffodils in his hand, which he held towards his wife after Golightly had left them.
"You see, Grace," he said, "I have not forgotten, after all."
