‘You were too young ever to have gone to that war, pet. You’d still be a soldier if you’d stayed at home.’

The conversation was pointless. If he hadn’t a damaged leg he’d still be in the army: it was ridiculous to go on repeating the fact, the way she apparently liked to.

‘I often think of you in your uniform,’ she said.

He did not comment, instead made a fresh effort to remember the carpentry instructor’s name. The man had been showing Asquith-Jones how to cut a dovetail one day and suddenly he’d lost his temper because Asquith-Jones hadn’t been paying proper attention. He’d struck poor old Asquith with the flat side of a panel saw.

‘He could easily be her father,’ she was saying, ‘If he’s a day he could be her father.’

‘Are you talking about my sister’s fiancé?’

‘He’s a right peculiarity, you know.’

He saw no reason to agree, even though he shared the opinion. He said instead that the solicitor was as God had seen fit to make him. Comment was impolite, he sought to imply with his tone.

‘All I’m saying to you, darling, is there’s not so many years between ourselves.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘What age would you say I was, Jack?’

He turned his head away, wincing because of all her modes of addressing him he disliked most her uninvited use of his father’s name. He had never wondered about her age. She was a widow was all he had ever thought, the daughter of a publican in Cahir, she’d once let drop. Her husband had died of a burst appendix, she’d let drop also.

‘I’m thirty-nine years old, Jack. Four years the difference.’

‘You look older than thirty-nine.’

She pouted, protruding her lower lip. Beneath the sheet she drew away from him.

‘I’m no good at guessing ages.’ He had spoken casually, simply stating the truth. He endeavoured to make amends because he knew that was necessary. ‘I always think people are older than they are.’

‘I’d marry you tomorrow, Jack.’

Unfortunately, he was unable to prevent himself from giving a laugh, even though he was well aware it would cause trouble. A display of amusement was the last thing that went down well; he had experience of that. When less outrageous suggestions had been made he’d been unable to prevent himself from giving a laugh, too.

‘You treat me like I’m a strumpet.’