“They look big enough to me, I can assure you.”
The paramount desire to please herself by pleasing others rose strong within her. Why be “cattish” with a jolly boy? Let him think of her for ever and ever as a pal. All trace of claws vanished as she said softly:
“If I can help you I will.”
He responded affectionately:
“You are a good sort. Help me? Of course you can. I—I think mother will side with me.”
Almost she betrayed herself. The words flew to her lips, “Lady Pomfret didn’t side with me.” Fortunately they remained unspoken. She said instead:
“Probably. Joyce Hamlin is dear to her. Frankly, I feel most sorry for your mother. What a poignant position! If she sides with you she declares war against her husband, who boasts that he is still her lover.”
Lionel grew more and more depressed. His next remark had humour in it, not intended by him.
“You aren’t helping me much, Margot.”
She saw the humour and laughed.