That was a good sign, Father not making a fuss when he saw him. His head was redder than usual, too.
“What about this Haye?”
“Oh, we parted.”
“Parted” had such a wonderful feel about it, and it had been so quiet. They had just said “good-bye.”
“Good thing too.”
“He was quite nice.”
“I don’t think much of that house.”
They walked on, round and round the old lawn. She had a fluttering inside.
“How did you know, Father?”
“Mrs. Haye wrote.”