But Fabian refused to play this uncomfortable game and remained obstinately unhelpful. Flossie extended her long upper lip and the corners of her mouth turned down dolorously. ‘Oh, Fabian, Fabian!’ she said in a wounded voice, and, after an unfruitful pause, she added: ‘And I put such trust in you. Such trust!’ She bit her lip and shielded her eyes wearily. ‘You refuse to help me, then. I had hoped it would be easier than this. What have you been saying to Ursula? What have you done, Fabian?’

This persistent repetition of his name had jarred on his nerves, Fabian said, but he had replied without emphasis. ‘I’m afraid I’ve told Ursula that I’m fond of her.’

‘Do you realize how dreadfully wrong that was? What right had you to speak to Ursy?’

There was only one answer to this. ‘None,’ said Fabian.

‘None,’ Flossie repeated. ‘None! You see? Oh, Fabian.’

‘Ursula returns my love,’ said Fabian, taking some pleasure in the old-fashioned phrase.

Two brick-red patches appeared over Flossie’s cheek bones. She abandoned her martyrdom. ‘Nonsense,’ she said sharply.

‘I know it’s incredible, but I have her word for it.’

‘She’s a child. You’ve taken advantage of her youth.’

‘That’s ridiculous, Aunt Florence,’ said Fabian.

‘She’s sorry for you,’ said Flossie cruelly. ‘It’s pity she feels. You’ve played on her sympathy for your bad health. That’s what it is. Pity,’ she added with an air of originality, ‘may be akin to love but it’s not love and you’ve behaved most unscrupulously in appealing to it.’

‘I made no appeal. I agree that I’ve no business to ask Ursula to marry me and I said as much to her.’

‘That was very astute of you,’ she said.

‘I said there must be no engagement between us unless my doctor could give me a clean bill of health. I assure you, Aunt Florence, I’ve no intention of asking her to marry a crock.’

‘If you were bursting with health,’ Flossie shouted, ‘you’d still be entirely unsuited to each other.’ She elaborated her theme, pointing out to Fabian the weaknesses in his character, his conceit, his cynicism, his absence of ideals. She emphasized the difference in their circumstances. No doubt, she said, Fabian knew very well that Ursula had an income of her own and, on her uncle’s death, would be extremely well provided. Fabian said that he agreed with everything Flossie said but that after all it was for Ursula to decide. He added that if the magnetic fuse came up to their expectations he would be in a better position financially and could hope for regular employment in specialized and experimental jobs. Flossie stared at him. Almost, Fabian said, you could see her lay back her ears.

‘I shall speak to Ursula,’ she said.