Winnie smiled and blushed a little. "Well, you see, the truth is that it's not only the General. He's got a son. Well, he's got three, but one of them turned up about a fortnight ago."
"Oh, did he? Where from?"
"From abroad—on long leave. It's the eldest—the Major."
"Does he like you very much too, Winnie?"
Winnie looked across the lawn. "It seems just conceivable that he might—complicate matters," she murmured. "I haven't spoken to Mrs. Lenoir about that—aspect of it."
Stephen was swift on the scent of another problem. "Oh, and you mean, if he did—well, show signs—how much ought he to be told about Miss Wilson?"
"Yes. And perhaps even before the signs were what you'd call very noticeable. Wouldn't it be fair? Because he doesn't seem to me at all a—a theoretical kind of person. I should think his ideas are what you might call——"
"Shall we say traditional—so as to be quite impartial towards the Major?"
"Yes. And especially about women, I should think."
Stephen looked across at his wife, smiling. "Well, Tora?"