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“
It
’
s
about
him
,
then
?
”
He
looked
at
her
kindly
,
half
-
humourously
,
an
almost
fraternal
wisdom
in
his
smile
.
“
About
—
—
?
No
,
no
:
I
meant
that
I
wanted
to
speak
today
because
it
’
s
our
last
day
alone
together
.
”
“
Oh
,
I
see
.
”
He
had
slipped
his
hands
into
the
pockets
of
his
tweed
shooting
jacket
and
lounged
along
at
her
side
,
his
eyes
bent
on
the
moist
ruts
of
the
drive
,
as
though
the
matter
had
lost
all
interest
for
him
.
“
Owen
—
—
”
He
stopped
again
and
faced
her
.
“
Look
here
,
my
dear
,
it
’
s
no
sort
of
use
.
”
“
What
’
s
no
use
?
”
“
Anything
on
earth
you
can
any
of
you
say
.
”
She
challenged
him
:
“
Am
I
one
of
‘
any
of
you
’
?
”
