She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. “You must come home to him at once,” said Miss Stanley. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. They stopped talking, except to each other. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself.
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