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Flora
seemed
taken
aback
for
a
minute
.
"
You
know
what
I
mean
,
"
she
said
uncertainly
.
"
Pretending
to
be
thankful
for
all
the
nasty
cast
-
off
things
rich
relations
give
you
.
Last
year
’
s
coat
and
skirts
and
hats
.
"
"
Don
’
t
know
much
about
ladies
"
clothes
;
should
have
said
you
were
always
very
well
turned
out
.
"
"
It
cost
me
something
,
though
,
"
said
Flora
in
a
low
voice
.
"
Don
’
t
let
’
s
talk
of
horrid
things
.
I
’
m
so
happy
.
I
’
m
free
.
Free
to
do
what
I
like
.
Free
not
to
"
She
stopped
suddenly
.
"
Not
to
what
?
"
asked
Blunt
quickly
.
"
I
forget
now
.
Nothing
important
.
"
Blunt
had
a
stick
in
his
hand
,
and
he
thrust
it
into
the
pond
,
poking
at
something
.
"
What
are
you
doing
.
Major
Blunt
?
"
"
There
’
s
something
bright
down
there
.
Wondered
what
it
was
–
looks
like
a
gold
brooch
.
Now
I
’
ve
stirred
up
the
mud
and
it
’
s
gone
.
"
"
Perhaps
it
’
s
a
crown
,
"
suggested
Flora
.
"
Like
the
one
Melisande
saw
in
the
water
.
"
"
Melisande
,
"
said
Blunt
reflectively
–
"
she
’
s
in
an
opera
,
isn
’
t
she
?
"
"
Yes
,
you
seem
to
know
a
lot
about
operas
.
"
"
People
take
me
sometimes
,
"
said
Blunt
sadly
.
"
Funny
idea
of
pleasure
–
worse
racket
than
the
natives
make
with
their
tom
-
toms
.
"
Flora
laughed
.
"
I
remember
Melisande
,
"
continued
Blunt
,
"
married
an
old
chap
old
enough
to
be
her
father
.
"
He
threw
a
small
piece
of
flint
into
the
goldfish
pond
.
Then
,
with
a
change
of
manner
,
he
turned
to
Flora
.
"
Miss
Ackroyd
,
can
I
do
anything
?
About
Paton
,
I
mean
.
