"From my mother."
She was surprised. "You remember your mother?"
"Very clearly."
"I didn't know that. What do you remember about her?"
"I remember a good many things—how she looked—the way she talked—the things she did."
"What sort of things were they?"
"That's what I want to tell you about. It's what I think you ought to know."
She allowed her eyes to rest on his calmly. "If you think knowing would make any difference to me—"
"I think it might. It's what I want to find out."
"Then I can tell you now that it wouldn't."