"You shouldn't have let Guisborough take you to the cinema this afternoon."
"Oh, Mummy, don't be so silly! What on earth else was there to do? Sit at home, and read a book?"
Mrs. Haddington appeared to feel the force of this argument, for she said nothing for a moment or two. The delicate chime of an ormolu clock on the mantleshelf made her raise her eyes quickly to it, and exclaim: "We must hurry, or we shall be late! Cynthia - tell me, my darling! - you haven't been meeting Dan unknown to me, have you?"
Cynthia's eyes flew open at that. "Dan? Whatever do you mean?"
Mrs. Haddington sat down on the arm of her daughter's chair, and tenderly smoothed the helmet of spun gold about her pretty head. "Listen, my pet! I know Dan's attractive, but he's not the man for you. He's an - an old friend of mine, but if I thought that you —'
"Darling Mummy, do be your age!" begged Cynthia. "I haven't the slightest desire to cut you out with Dan!"
Mrs. Haddington saw no need to reprove her offspring for this speech. She merely said: "Then that's all right. But you mustn't think I don't know that he's been doing his utmost to get you to fall for him. And, of course, men of his age -"
"Too Victorian!" interrupted Cynthia. "Really, Mummy! Oh, God, is it actually six o'clock? I must fly!"
She wrenched her slim body out of the chair, and bent to pick up the discarded hat. Mrs. Haddington said: "You'll have time for a hot bath: it'll freshen you up."
"I shall be all right," Cynthia repeated. "Who's coming with us?"