“Thankhim,please,whenyouwrite,”saidMissAbbott,“andgivehimmykindestregards.” “IndeedIwill.”Hewassurprisedthatshecouldslideawayfromthemansoeasily.Forhisownpart,hewasboundbytiesofalmostalarmingintimacy.Ginohadthesouthernknackoffriendship.IntheintervalsofbusinesshewouldpulloutPhilip’slife,turnitinsideout,remodelit,andadvisehimhowtouseitforthebest.Thesensationwaspleasant,forhewasakindaswellasaskilfuloperator.ButPhilipcameawayfeelingthathehadnotasecretcornerleft.InthatveryletterGinohadagainimploredhim,asarefugefromdomesticdifficulties,“tomarryMissAbbott,evenifherdowryissmall.”AndhowMissAbbottherself,aftersuchtragicintercourse,couldresumetheconventionsandsendcalmmessagesofesteem,wasmorethanhecouldunderstand. “Whenwillyouseehimagain?”sheasked.Theywerestandingtogetherinthecorridorofthetrain,slowlyascendingoutofItalytowardstheSanGothardtunnel. “Ihopenextspring.PerhapsweshallpaintSienaredforadayortwowithsomeofthenewwife’smoney.Itwasoneoftheargumentsformarryingher.” “Hehasnoheart,”shesaidseverely.“Hedoesnotreallymindaboutthechildatall.” “Noyou’rewrong.Hedoes.Heisunhappy,liketherestofus.Buthedoesn’ttrytokeepupappearancesaswedo.Heknowsthatthethingsthathavemadehimhappyoncewillprobablymakehimhappyagain—” “Hesaidhewouldneverbehappyagain.” “Inhispassion.Notwhenhewascalm.WeEnglishsayitwhenwearecalm—whenwedonotreallybelieveitanylonger.Ginoisnotashamedofinconsistency.ItisoneofthemanythingsIlikehimfor.” “YesIwaswrong.Thatisso.” “He’smuchmorehonestwithhimselfthanIam,”continuedPhilip,“andheishonestwithoutaneffortandwithoutpride.Butyou,MissAbbott,whataboutyou?WillyoubeinItalynextspring?”