He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. They were horrible people. The boy was bright and inquisitive as he was subtle. . . The curtains which she had left drawn were open, and the electric lights were turned on.
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