added, smiling: "But if he should be guilty of such bad taste it wouldn't be nice of you not to be disgusted."
"I'm not talking of disgust; I'm talking of its opposite," said Mrs. Gereth.
"Of its opposite?"
"Why, of any reviving pleasure that one might feel in such an exhibition. I shall feel none at all. You may personally take it as you like; but what conceivable good will it do?"
Fleda wondered. "To me, do you mean?"
"Deuce take you, no! To what we don't, you know, by your wish, ever talk about."
"The old things?" Fleda considered again. "It will do no good of any sort to anything or any one. That's another question I would rather we shouldn't discuss, please," she gently added.
Mrs. Gereth shrugged her shoulders. "It certainly isn't worth it!"
Something in her manner prompted her companion, with a certain inconsequence, to speak again. "That was partly why I came back to you, you know—that there should be the less possibility of anything painful."
"Painful?" Mrs. Gereth stared. "What pain can I ever feel again?"
"I meant painful to myself," Fleda, with a slight impatience, explained.
"Oh, I see." Her friend was silent a minute. "You use sometimes such odd expressions. Well, I shall last a little, but I sha'n't last forever."
