‘Very likely,’ Sheila said, sleepily. ‘But you know him so much better than I.’
‘He’s ductile,’ said Hypatia, rather consciously selecting the word.
‘Too much so,’ Sheila ventured. ‘How beautifully he plays the violin. That night at the Folk Dancing he was wonderful.’
‘Yes. In his way he’s quite a genius. Though of course this musical glamour is not really healthy. It’s a kind of delusion, a magnetism. In Real Knowledge it doesn’t exist.’
‘He’s rather marvellous, your friend Bunny,’ Sheila said tritely, chilled by Hypatia’s eternal prosing.
‘He’s a very nice boy. But under mother’s thumb at present. I shall change that.’
Sheila shivered. ‘You! How?’
‘He proposed to me to-night.’
Sheila was dumbstruck for a moment. Then, ‘You’re very calm about it,’ she said. ‘Did you...?’
‘Not yet. But if I do accept him there’ll be a fine tussle with mother.’