"I suppose he's not very happy now," her brother vaguely contributed.
"Of course he isn't, any more than you and I are; and it's dreadful
of him to want to be."
"Well, don't make yourself miserable till you're sure," the young man
said.
But Adela showed him confidently that she WAS sure, from the way the
pair had behaved together and from her father's attitude on the drive
home. If Godfrey had been there he would have seen everything; it
couldn't be explained, but he would have felt. When he asked at what
moment the girl had first had her suspicion she replied that it had
all come at once, that evening; or that at least she had had no
conscious fear till then. There had been signs for two or three
weeks, but she hadn't understood them--ever since the day Mrs.
Churchley had dined in Seymour Street. Adela had on that occasion
thought it odd her father should have wished to invite her, given the
quiet way they were living; she was a person they knew so little. He
had said something about her having been very civil to him, and that
evening, already, she had guessed that he must have frequented their
portentous guest herself more than there had been signs of. To-night
it had come to her clearly that he would have called on her every day
since the time of her dining with them; every afternoon about the
hour he was ostensibly at his club. Mrs. Churchley WAS his club--she
was for all the world just like one. At this Godfrey laughed; he
wanted to know what his sister knew about clubs.
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