With a womanly touch which she and all women have inherited from Eve, who never forgot to stand with her back to the sun and took care, if possible, to remain in the woods until after breakfast, Ethel turned on a shaded light and switched off the strong overhead glare which made her look every day of her fifteen years. Then she sat down with the light over her left shoulder. She was quite herself again. All was well with the world.
"Where have you been?" she asked, a little imperiously.
"Nowhere," said Jack.
"Then why haven't you been to see me? I have signalled every night. I can't understand it."
"I know you can't. That's why I've stayed away."
Ethel was puzzled at the boy's solemn tone. "Of course, if you don't want to come, please don't. I wouldn't drag you here against your will for anything."
"Yes, but I do want to come. I stay away for your sake, and I'm not coming again after this evening."
That was exactly what Ethel wanted to hear. She'd been afraid that Jack had found some one else. Now she knew differently. "Don't be silly," she said. "Have a cigarette. Come and sit on the sofa and don't let's waste time."
But Jack didn't move. He had gone back to the window-sill and remained hunched up on the narrow ledge, holding on with both hands. "I'm off in a minute," he said. "I'm just going to tell you one or two things before I go. Would you like to hear them?"
"If they're pleasant," she said.