She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. But nobody drinks on my island unless I offer it, which is seldom. In the matter of his conscience he was primitive; and for an educated man to become primitive is to become something of a child. She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life. Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. He probably imagines himself to be a thousand times worse off than he actually is. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. But after that it was easy. He will not provide for the daughter.
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