And in
these circumstances Nutty's attitude had more weight than on its
merits it deserved. She wished she could cry. She had a feeling
that if she once did that the right outlook would come back to
her.
Nutty, meanwhile, had found another pebble and was kicking it
sombrely. He was beginning to perceive something of the intricate
and unfathomable workings of the feminine mind. He had always
looked on Elizabeth as an ordinary good fellow, a girl whose mind
worked in a more or less understandable way. She was not one of
those hysterical women you read about in the works of the
novelists; she was just a regular girl. And yet now, at the one
moment of her life when everything depended on her acting
sensibly, she had behaved in a way that made his head swim when he
thought of it. What it amounted to was that you simply couldn't
understand women.
Into this tangle of silent sorrow came a hooting automobile. It
drew up at the gate and a man jumped out.
24
The man who had alighted from the automobile was young and
cheerful. He wore a flannel suit of a gay blue and a straw hat
with a coloured ribbon, and he looked upon a world which, his
manner seemed to indicate, had been constructed according to his
own specifications through a single eyeglass. When he spoke it
became plain that his nationality was English.
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