It was, of course, but as a vaguely outlined vision that these
recognitions floated through what could only be alleged to be
Feather's mind because there was no other name for it. The dark
little staircase, the rejected and despised third floor, and Coombe
detachedly announcing his plans for the house, had set the--so to
speak--rather malarious mist flowing around her. A trying thing
was that it did not really dispel itself altogether, but continued
to hang about the atmosphere surrounding other and more cheerful
things. Almost impalpably it added to the familiar feeling--or lack
of feeling--with regard to Robin. She had not at all hated the
little thing; it had merely been quite true that, in an inactive
way, she had not LIKED her. In the folds of the vague mist quietly
floated the truth that she now liked her less.
Benby came to see and talk to her on the business of the
structural changes to be made. He conducted himself precisely as
though her views on the matter were of value and could not, in
fact, be dispensed with. He brought the architect's plans with him
and explained them with care. They were clever plans which made
the most of a limited area. He did not even faintly smile when
it revealed itself to him, as it unconsciously did, that Mrs.
Gareth-Lawless regarded their adroit arrangement as a singular
misuse of space which could have been much better employed for
necessities of her own.
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