Dinah glanced curiously at her. "You're very fond of Geoffrey, aren't you?"
Mrs. Twining had stooped to smell a great crimson rose. "Too full-blown to pick. What a pity! No, my dear, I don't know that I should describe myself as being very fond of Geoffrey. I knew him when he was in his cradle, however, and I have always been sorry for the boy."
"Did you know his mother, Mrs. Twining?" asked Dinah. "I've often wondered."
Mrs. Twining put back a trailing rambler with her gloved hand. "Have you, my dear? Yes, I knew her quite well."
"What was she like? Arthur never mentions her, you know, and there isn't even a photograph."
"When Arthur puts people out of his life," said Mrs. Twining, with a faint smile, "he does it very thoroughly. She was generally thought to be pretty."
"I don't really blame her for leaving Arthur, but it was rather rotten of her to leave Geoffrey," reflected Dinah.
Mrs. Twining passed through the gap in the hedge again on to the lawn. "Yes, it was, as you say, rotten of her," she replied. "But whatever she did that was rotten, or foolish, she had to pay for. Tell me, is Arthur in, do you know?"
"Yes, I think he must be. Oh, there is Fay, coming away from the vegetable garden! Fa-ay!"
They waited for Fay to catch up with them. She gave her hand to Mrs. Twining, saying: "It's so nice of you to have come, Julia. Things are being — a little difficult. Perhaps if you spoke to him Arthur might listen."