Then she smiled up at him, and shook her head.
"You're treating me like a stranger," he protested doggedly; "however badly I've behaved, I've not deserved that." He was looking down at her hair, the lovely fair hair which had always been her greatest beauty--the one beauty she now shared with Rosamund.

He wondered if it would ever grow long again.

And yet now he told himself that he did not want to see her different from what she had become.
"Treating you like a stranger?
You're the first visitor we've had to stay at Old Place since the Armistice." As he said nothing, she went on, a little breathlessly, "D'you remember what a lot of people used to come and go in the old days?
That was one of the nice things about Janet.

She loved to entertain our friends, even our acquaintances.

But now we never have anybody.