There is no egoist in the world so complete as the disappointed woman
without imagination.
She hurried through the town as though she were on a business of the
utmost urgency; she saw nothing and she heard nothing. She did not even
see Miss Milton sitting at her half-opened window enjoying the evening
air.
Morris himself opened the door. He was surprised when he saw her; when he
had closed the door and helped her off with her coat he said as they
walked into the drawing-room:
"Is there anything the matter?"
She saw at once that the room was cheerless and deserted.
"Is Miss Burnett here?" she asked.
"No. She went off to Rafiel for a week's holiday. I'm being looked after
by the cook."
"It's cold." She drew her shoulders and arms together, shivering.
"Yes. It _is_ cold. It's these showers. Shall I light the fire?"
"Yes, do."
He bent down, putting a match to the paper; then when the fire blazed he
pushed the sofa forwards.
"Now sit down and tell me what's the matter."
She could see that he was extremely nervous.
"Have you heard nothing?"
"No.
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