’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. ” She stopped, and then suggested: “I wonder—I should love—if it was anything I said. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless.
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