"You mustn’t waste your money, deary," said her mother mechanically.
They both set to work to open the tins, brew the tea, and lay out the supper.
"It does taste good," Mrs. Kennedy admitted. "Somehow, when I’m alone, I haven’t got the heart to buy things and cook them. It’s nice to see you again, Angie!"
"I dare say you’ll soon be sick of me," said Angelica. "Now, come along, mommer, put on your hat and coat!"
They went out together, the tall, swaggering daughter, the small, decorous mother, along the swarming streets to their favourite moving-picture "palace." It was exactly the sort of picture Mrs. Kennedy liked, a "society" one, and in addition her daughter bought her a box of caramels. In every way a treat, a notable evening!
And yet, all the time, her vague anxiety persisted. She had questions which she felt she must ask. They went home, and to bed, without her having summoned courage to put them. Then, at last:
"Angie!" she said softly in the dark. "Angie!"
Not a sound. Angelica must have fallen asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
II
Mrs. Kennedy was very much surprised to see Angelica spring out of bed the next morning at six o’clock, for she had always liked to lie in bed till the last possible instant. Her mother was still more surprised to hear her say: