All at once he seemed to come to a decision.
"Look, you can't go till the fog clears a bit.

Suppose we call a truce?
Sit down here"-- pulling forward a big easy-chair--"and for the rest of your visit let's behave as though we didn't heartily disapprove of one another." Magda sank into the chair with that supple grace of limb which made it sheer delight to watch her movements.
"I never said I disapproved of you," she remarked.
He seated himself opposite her, on the other side of the hearth, and regarded her quizzically.
"No.

But you do, all the same.

Naturally, you would after my candour! And I'd rather you did, too," he added abruptly.

"But at least you've no more devoted admirer of your art.