He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. She was already a little prepared by her discursive reading and discussion under the Widgett influence for ideas and “movements,” though temperamentally perhaps she was rather disposed to resist and criticise than embrace them. The carpet was a quiet drugget and not excessively worn, and the bed in the corner was covered by a white quilt. “My father’s sisters used once to live in the old manor house. “It might be a policeman borrowing the driveway and looking out for speeders. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction.
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