She knew that her present lover was not much of a catch, and had a feeling that in allowing herself to be swayed almost entirely by her own sensual desires she had been too self-indulgent. She ought to have had her eye more firmly on the prospects of advantage. She allowed herself to think of Charles Farquhar as a sin, which had its own appeal; but she was under no illusion that the thing could last.

When Gilbert had irritably accused her of disparaging Lionel Stephens because she was put out by his apparent immunity to her charm, he had been to some extent right. Aline would have liked Lionel Stephens to fall for her. He was a promising young man. It was generally thought that after a few more years at the Bar he would have made enough money to go into politics and that when he did so either party would be pleased to have him. An older woman to guide him at this stage, to entertain for him, intrigue for him, would be perfectly appropriate. Well, he had chosen Olivia and clearly it was love of the highest sort, such as would be suitable for someone of Olivia’s qualities. Aline was generous in her recognition: all she wanted was to be allowed to be an intimate. Olivia had not so far been in the inner circle of Aline’s acquaintances: she had been also – or so Aline considered – in a position, should she wish to do so, to look down on Aline from a moral point of view. Aline was quite clear in her mind that the way of life she had chosen was the right one for her talents, but she also knew that there was another way of life, one in which married ladies did not have lovers; and though generally speaking one could shrug that off by the thought of how incredibly dreary and middle class it was, it was difficult to apply that criticism to the lovely, well-born and admired Olivia Lilburn. But if Olivia were to stoop – if stoop it was – then it not only made a franker friendship between the two women possible by making Olivia more like Aline, but it was likely to help to quieten those odd prickings of conscience left behind by her really awfully boring childhood by making Aline more like Olivia.

It was therefore with genuine kindliness that she expressed to Gilbert the view that Lionel was wonderfully good-looking. After all, what was the point of the whole thing if they were not all wonderful people?

‘I suppose he is really one of the best-looking people one knows.’

‘Would you say so?’ said Gilbert coldly.

‘Bob Lilburn is very fine-looking of course but he is more massive. Lionel has such a sensitive face, don’t you think? Like Phoebus Apollo turned fasting friar.’

‘What?’

‘George Meredith. In The Egoist, you know, the hero, I can’t remember his name, the man she loves, not the egoist himself. He’s supposed to have that rather ascetic look, although frightfully handsome and strong. He describes him as Phoebus Apollo turned fasting friar; I’ve always thought he sounded so attractive.’