They motored out to Burford Bridge, and Elizabeth cried how lovely the trees were against the blue of the sky. Wendell said, “Yes, rather. See that new Crossley over there? By Jove, she was a fine car!” Elizabeth was impatient; she felt that nice as he was Wendell had no appreciation of beauty. He laughed at her, and tried to admire as she admired. Sometimes he said things to her which she did not quite understand; then he would laugh again, and change the subject. Or he would make some remark that had the effect of making her draw back. He would say, I love those stockings of yours, Betty. There was nothing in it, she thought. Only the way he said it made her shy. Occasionally he was not delicate in the choice of a subject for conversation; he said things that made her blush. Nothing, really. Only you felt that there was a meaning behind, something you did not want to understand. That was his modernity, she thought. Men were free in their talk to women nowadays.

Once he told her an anecdote, and at the end waited for her to laugh. She did not see the point; she shook her head and that made him laugh, in rather a silly way.

“Haven’t you seen it, Betty? Good Lord, and you’re a married woman!”

“No, I haven’t seen it. What is it?” she asked, gravely dignified.

“Oh, my dear girl, I can’t explain a joke of that kind!”

“I see. Then please don’t try.”

“You runny little prude!” he exclaimed. “Are you really Innocent Isobel from the country, or are you Pitting it on?”

She was deeply affronted.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Charles. I don’t know why you should find my ‘innocence’ so hard to understand.”

“Don’t you? By Jove, I should have thought the reason was pretty obvious.”

She got up, pale, and with furious eyes.

“Really? Perhaps you’ll tell me, then?”

“Well, hang it all, when a girl leaves her husband—”

“I think you’d better go, Charles.”

He jumped up, and put his arm round her shoulders.

“Oh, don’t be snorty, Bets! I was only pulling your leg. Sorry if you’re cross about it. Kiss and be friends.”

She freed herself from his embrace.

“I am cross. I’m—hurt that you could think I’d understand a nasty joke.”

“I say, Betty, live and let live! I didn’t mean anything, you know. Anyway, I’m awfully sorry. Please, teacher, I won’t do it no more! Didn’t know you were so innocent, that was all.”

She forgave him, but she knew that he did not really believe in her innocence. He thought she was pretending. That side of him was the one she did not like.