“She came to lunch at Cragsfoot, and was fairly agreeable—for her. After lunch we three were alone in the smoking room, and she proposed that Waldo should walk back to Briarmount with her and play billiards. It was inclining to rain, not attractive for a long walk. Waldo asked me to come too. The weather didn’t tempt me; I said no. By now I was not, of course, in the least afraid of leaving him alone with Nina. However, he went on pressing me, and at last I consented. She kept quiet during the pressing, but I saw the hard look in her eyes that always meant temper. We started off, all in our mackintoshes, for the rain was coming down smartly now. Silence for the first half mile or so; Nina’s nose was in the air, Waldo was sullen; I was amused; but I wasn’t going to make talk for them if they chose to be sulky. Suddenly she began on Arsenio again. She wished Don Arsenio was here! What jolly times we had when Don Arsenio was here! And so on. Neither of us said anything. Then she said directly to me, across Waldo, who was walking between us, ‘Don’t you know where he is? Don’t you ever hear from him? He was a great admirer of yours.’ I answered carelessly that I hadn’t heard since he left Venice; but I felt my color rising. Waldo listened silently, but I felt him getting annoyed—I always could. And I was getting afraid. If we’d been alone, I could easily have got away from the topic and smoothed him down. But she was there. ‘Don’t you miss him too, Waldo? You and he and Lucinda used to have such fun together!’ I could see that Waldo was just holding himself in. ‘The Monkey’s all right,’ he said, ‘but I can live without him, you know. And I imagine you can too, Lucinda?’ There was a look on his face that I didn’t like. I saw that, Nina or no Nina, I must do something. ‘Perfectly!’ I said with a laugh. I put my arm through his and gave him a little squeeze on his wrist. I think we’re quite all right as we are, Waldo!’