‘Well, well,’ said Mr Parker Pyne. ‘Nature will have her revenge.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It isn’t healthy for a young man to be interested in serious subjects. He ought to be making an idiot of himself over one girl after another.’

‘Please be serious, Mr Pyne.’

‘I’m perfectly serious. Is the young lady, by any chance, the one who had tea with you yesterday?’

He had noticed her–her grey flannel trousers–the scarlet handkerchief tied loosely around her breast–the vermilion mouth and the fact that she had chosen a cocktail in preference to tea.

‘You saw her? Terrible! Not the kind of girl Basil has ever admired.’

‘You haven’t given him much chance to admire a girl, have you?’

‘I?’

‘He’s been too fond of your company! Bad! However, I daresay he’ll get over this–if you don’t precipitate matters.’

‘You don’t understand. He wants to marry this girl–Betty Gregg–they’re engaged.’

‘It’s gone as far as that?’

‘Yes. Mr Parker Pyne, you must do something. You must get my boy out of this disastrous marriage! His whole life will be ruined.’

‘Nobody’s life can be ruined except by themselves.’

‘Basil’s will be,’ said Mrs Chester positively.

‘I’m not worrying about Basil.’

‘You’re not worrying about the girl?’

‘No, I’m worrying about you. You’ve been squandering your birthright.’

Mrs Chester looked at him, slightly taken aback.

‘What are the years from twenty to forty? Fettered and bound by personal and emotional relationships. That’s bound to be. That’s living. But later there’s a new stage. You can think, observe life, discover something about other people and the truth about yourself. Life becomes real–significant. You see it as a whole. Not just one scene–the scene you, as an actor, are playing. No man or woman is actually himself (or herself ) till after forty-five. That’s when individuality has a chance.’

Mrs Chester said:

‘I’ve been wrapped up in Basil. He’s been everything to me.’

‘Well, he shouldn’t have been. That’s what you’re paying for now. Love him as much as you like–but you’re Adela Chester, remember, a person–not just Basil’s mother.’

‘It will break my heart if Basil’s life is ruined,’ said Basil’s mother.

He looked at the delicate lines of her face, the wistful droop of her mouth. She was, somehow, a lovable woman. He did not want her to be hurt. He said:

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

He found Basil Chester only too ready to talk, eager to urge his point of view.

‘This business is being just hellish. Mother’s hopeless–prejudiced, narrow-minded. If only she’d let herself, she’d see how fine Betty is.’

‘And Betty?’

He sighed.