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“I wonder she hasn’t replied,” said Sarah, obediently sipping her champagne.

Virgil shrugged his shoulders.

“I daresay she won’t,” he said. “She’s very considerate. I mean, it’s delicate ground, and it’ld be just like June if she sank her own feelings and, er, let bygones be bygones.”

His fiancée shook her head.

“If she doesn’t answer,” she said, “I shall be really worried. Silence can only mean one of two things: either that she doesn’t know how to behave——”

“Oh, she knows how to behave all right.”

“—or that she’s almost beside herself.”

“No, no,” said Virgil. “June’s not that kind of girl. I shan’t be at all surprised, if she doesn’t reply. In fact, I should be rather surprised, if she did. You know, I had a feeling, when I wrote that letter, that it would never be answered. You see, June——”

“But you used to kiss her, you know.”

Pardoner pulled his moustache.

“Once in a while,” he said. “But I never made a meal of it. It was more of a salute.”

Miss Vulliamy stared across the room.

“I think,” she said softly, “your love for her is very beautiful.”