’ ‘Couldn’t help but do so, ma’am,’ said Mrs Ibstock. I had no idea she could go so fast. In between naps she increasingly found herself gazing at him, his large nose, his eyes circled in silvery plum shadows, his thin lips parted as he slept baring a rim of perfect teeth. She didn’t like the shops, she didn’t like the other women’s faces; she thought the smirking men in frock-coats who dominated these establishments the most intolerable persons she had ever had to face. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. “That is very nice of you,” she said. The two aunts of these young ladies lived for many years in the dower house upon my estate in Hampshire. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him.
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