pressing feelings, by the aid of phrases that he had never heard before but which seemed to him illuminating and happy—as when, for instance, she asked what art was, after all, but a synthesis made in the interest of pleasure, or said that she didn't like England at all, but loved it. It did not occur to him to think these discriminations pedantic. Suddenly she remarked, 'Madame Grandoni told me you saw my husband.'
'Ah, was the gentleman your husband?'
'Unfortunately! What do you think of him?'
'Oh, I can't think———' Hyacinth murmured.
'I wish I couldn't, either! I haven't seen him for nearly three years. He wanted to see me to-day, but I refused.'
'Ah!' said Hyacinth, staring and not knowing how he ought to receive so unexpected a confidence. Then, as the suggestions of inexperience are sometimes the happiest of all, he spoke simply what was in his mind and said, gently, 'It has made you very nervous.' Afterwards, when he had left the house, he wondered how, at that stage, he could have ventured on such a familiar remark.
The Princess took it with a quick, surprised laugh. 'How do you know that?' But before he had time to tell how, she added, 'Your saying that—that way—shows me how right I was to ask you to come to see me. You know, I hesitated. It shows me you have perceptions; I guessed as much the other night at the theatre. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have asked you. I may be wrong, but I like people who understand what one says to them, and also what one doesn't say.'
'Don't think I understand too much. You might easily exaggerate that,' Hyacinth declared, conscientiously.
