She thought how clever it was of Aunt Bella to be able to keep it up like
that. "I couldn't do it to save my life. As long as I live I shall never
be any good to Mamma."

The dining-room looked like Mr. Metcalfe, the undertaker. Funereal
hypocrisy. She wondered whether Roddy would see the likeness.

She thought of Roddy's nervous laugh when Catty brought in the first
Yorkshire cakes. His eyes had stared at her steadily as he bit into his
piece. They had said: "You don't care. You don't care. If you really
cared you couldn't eat."

There were no more threads to pick.

She wondered whether she would be thought unfeeling if she were to take a
book and read.

Aunt Bella began to talk about Roddy. Uncle Edward said Roddy ought to go
away and get something to do.

If Roddy went away there would be no one. No one.

She got up suddenly and left them.


XIV.

The air of the drawing-room braced her like the rigour of a cold bath.
Her heartache loosened and lost itself in the long shiver of chilled
flesh.