"You are a most amazing person," said Ada Leigh.
"I don't see why," answered Finch. "Arthur doesn't think so, do you, Arthur?"
"I'm not sure that I don't."
"But why?" Finch, who so hated being under discussion at home, yearned for the analytical interest of the Leighs. "I think I'm a chap who will never be noticed."
"Don't deceive yourself," said Leigh. "People are always going to stare at you."
"I know I'm ill-favoured, but please don't rub it in." For the first time in his life he was feeling conceited. It was delicious.
Ada said: "When we heard that your grandmother had left you her money, we said at once: 'How natural! He's bound to have spectacular things happen to him!'"
"You're ragging me!"
"I never could do that. I should be afraid. You're so sensitive."
"It's a pity my people don't feel that way about me."
"I suppose it came rather as a surprise to them—your getting all the money," said Leigh.
"A tremendous surprise."
"I hope they took it well." Leigh tried to keep curiosity out of his voice. That family! He could imagine their being pretty formidable, especially the peppery fox-faced fellow from whom he had bought a horse he didn't want.
"Oh, they were very decent about it!" How easy to lie—to picture Jalna as running on oiled wheels—in this rose-and-ivory drawing-room! He expanded more and more in the warmth of their interest. They drew him on to talk of his music, what he had been practising that
