His father would have laughed, even though he’d have been surprised. People said his father was the tallest man in Ireland and had the straightest back. His father often permitted a whimsical slant of amusement to soften his features; things did not upset him, but even so he could be firm. ‘Yes, I have to say surprised,’ he would have drily commented on the clandestine association.

The feeling that his father was constantly watching was sometimes most upsetting. On his way to the boardinghouse he always hurried by the windows of the promenade in an effort to avoid the glances by the curious; he took exception to the haughty gaze of Finnamore Balt’s white cat, and was glad the animal was not to accompany the man to Carriglas. All the time, striding through the summer trippers, pushing open the door she left on the latch, he felt uneasy. It was he who’d suggested that the maid should not be there on Mondays; and the summer boarders were not permitted to hang about the house during the day. ‘My handsome boy,’ the woman always greeted him, no matter how they had parted the last time. And every time she did so he sensed his father’s amusement.

On the lawn beneath the monkey puzzle he lit another cigarette and then continued his walk, back and forth. Somebody had spoken to Coyne about that French motorcar. Coyne wouldn’t have approached him if there hadn’t been a prompting. ‘I didn’t open my mouth to him, honey. Wouldn’t it have been your sister?’ But when he mentioned it at dinner Villana had appeared to be genuinely surprised. Certainly a motor-car would be necessary, his sister had agreed: her fiance’s old Ford would naturally come to Carriglas when they were married, but it was too small to accommodate the family, and besides it wasn’t fair that such use should be made of it. in that case we’ll have to sell a field,’ he’d countered, separating the flesh of a sole from its backbone. Lionel had shaken his head, but hadn’t said anything. A car wasn’t necessary since they had several perfectly good traps, and a governess-car and a dog-cart. Besides all that, there was no call whatsoever for outside interference in a family matter; and it was typical, of course, that she’d only see it from her own point of view, it’s only I’m worried you wouldn’t make your way across to me, pet. I’m worried for yourself, getting drenched in the rain.’ It was like walking into a spider’s parlour, he sometimes thought. A fly with a limp might feel the way he felt, enticed into her perfume. She smiled plumply in his imagination; the bedroom statues and pictures appeared. They were the one flesh, she’d said, urging the motor-car money on him.