‘I don’t know,’ Birkin answered discreetly.

‘Have I seen him before?’ she asked.

‘I don’t think so. I haven’t,’ he replied. And she was satisfied. Her eyes closed wearily, a peace came over her face, she looked like a queen in repose. Then she started, a little social smile came on her face, for a moment she looked the pleasant hostess. For a moment she bent graciously, as if everyone were welcome and delightful. And then immediately the shadow came back, a sullen, eagle look was on her face, she glanced from under her brows like a sinister creature at bay, hating them all.

‘Mother,’ called Diana, a handsome girl a little older than Winifred, ‘I may have wine, mayn’t I?’