‘I don’t think she has,’ said Ronald vaguely. ‘I’m afraid not. I suppose my mother’s not the proper sort of matron. She would hardly, I suppose, provide the bosom that young women on these occasions are supposed to require. I’m afraid she may perhaps feel like I do, that one’s friends, however various and delightful they may be at other times, are least interesting – while of course deserving all respect – at these moments when they approximate most closely to the normal. What people call life’s larger experiences,’ said Ronald, ‘are so very narrowing.’

‘What a vocabulary you’ve got, Kerr,’ said Colonel Duperrier, respectfully offering his cigarette-case. ‘I’ve never heard such a flow of language. Write?’

‘I try not to,’ said Ronald, looking ruefully at a cigarette as though he wished he had not taken it; he inclined with a sign to Colonel Duperrier’s lighted match.

It was another of these idyllic evenings, agonizingly meaningless; the evening air brought out the scent of the lemons. The Lawrences, shrugging up their wraps round their shoulders, slid forward in their chairs luxuriously and sank down into themselves like cats into their fur. Thin blue smoke drifted away through the clearness. Joan said thoughtfully: ‘I don’t suppose it matters – talking, I mean – so long as you know exactly what you mean yourself. I don’t, because I never do.’

‘You may think all the more,’ said Colonel Duperrier, knocking the ash of his cigarette off, not quite looking at her.

‘Oh yes, I do think a good deal,’ said Joan, swinging one foot and watching it, very mysterious.

‘Do you really?’ said Ronald with interest, coming wide awake. ‘What do you think about?’

‘Well, really …’ interposed Eileen, after a hard stare. ‘Well, really, Ronald, you are cool!’

To Colonel Duperrier’s embarrassment, Ronald reddened and stuttered. Ronald was thinner-skinned than one thought, he hated offending people and making them angry. But he couldn’t imagine, obviously, what he had done. ‘I – I’m most awfully sorry. But why …’

‘Well, I mean,’ said Eileen, ‘really, if a person’s own thoughts aren’t their own … I mean, if a person’s going to be expected to say what they feel about everything ——’

‘I didn’t say “feel,” I said “think”.’

‘Well, it’s the same thing,’ said Eileen. They stared at one another.

‘Oh,’ said Ronald. ‘I’m very sorry. You see, what I think is so public, if anyone’s interested.’

‘Well, it would be – you’re only a boy.’

‘Oh, look here, Eileen; don’t bullyrag Ronald——’

‘It’s all right, thank you,’ said Ronald, still rather pink. ‘I am very much interested in your sister’s point of view.’