“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, but if, because the first time you meet a person you find them crying, you think it gives you the right to throw it in their teeth for ever more, you’re quite wrong.”

“Will you come on and not talk rubbish! I’m throwing nothing in your teeth, I’m asking you to lunch. It’s spoiling, I should think, and I can’t spare much time, but I’m not going in without you.”

“You are mean, you know.” She fell into step beside him. “You’re taking advantage of the war, in farmers being busy, and everything. If I have lunch here I’ll bring my rations.”

“You can arrange that with Gladys, I expect she’ll be glad of them.” He opened the yard gate. “Come on.”

The dining-room was hideous. It had been papered and furnished by Donald’s grandfather. The walls were covered in red paper and there was some horrible heavy mahogany furniture about. On the walls were several bad oils of immensely fat cattle, under each was a glass case of medals. Gladys was sitting with an aggravatingly resigned expression at the bottom of the table. A chair with arms stood at the head of the table for Donald. Iris sat on Donald’s left. Janet, as she walked in before Donald, felt like a foolish schoolgirl. She sat in the vacant chair on Gladys’ right and heard, with crimson cheeks, her ring the bell, and when the door was opened by a cheerful, stout woman, listened to her saying in an exaggeratedly patient voice:

“You can bring the things in again now, Mrs. Honeywell. Miss Brain has been found.”

“You were silly to go out,” Iris said cheerfully. “We always have dinner and there’s plenty for you.”

Janet glanced down at her neat frock, and thought of her tidy hair, and of how like a governess she was looking, and pulled her pride together. It was ludicrous to feel like a badly behaved child.

“I’m sorry if I’ve kept you waiting,” she said to Gladys, “but you see I’ve always worked in an office, and expect to arrange about my own lunch; if I’m to lunch here I must have a talk with you about rations.”

“Where on earth were you?” Gladys asked. “I thought one call from Donald would bring you.”

Mrs. Honeywell carried in a joint and put it in front of Donald. Janet took advantage of her being in the room not to answer. What on earth was she to say? Would Donald describe the scene? Donald watched Mrs. Honeywell waddle out to fetch the vegetables, then he said:

“She was only under the hedge in the home field, but you know what I am when I’m outside, always get sidetracked by something.”