"Well, you don't, you see," Bernard replied politely. "Stop
pulling those blinds about. Come over here." Laura came to him.
"Kiss me," said Clowes, and she laid her cool lips on his cheek.
Clowes received her kiss passively: even Laura, though she
understood him pretty well, never was sure whether he made her
kiss him because he liked it or because he thought she did not
like it.

"Where are you off to now?" asked Clowes, pushing her away: "you
look very smart. I like that cotton dress. It is cotton, isn't
it?" he rubbed the fabric gingerly between his finger and thumb.
"Did Catherine make it? That girl is a jewel. I like that gipsy
hat too, it's a pretty shape and it shades your eyes. I call
that sensible, which can't often be said for a woman's clothes.
You have good eyes, Laura, well worth shading, though your figure
is your trump card. I like these fitting bodices that give a
woman a chance to show what shape she is. All you Selincourt
women score in evening gowns. Yvonne has a topping figure,
though she's an ugly little devil. She has an American
complexion and her eyes aren't as good as yours. Where did you
say you were going?"

"To the station to meet Lawrence. I promised to fetch him in the
car."

"Lawrence? So he's due today, is he? I'd forgotten all about
him. And you're meeting him? Oh yes, that explains the dress
and hat, I thought you wouldn't have put them on for my
benefit."