‘Oh joy, joy, joy.’
Then the expression of her face changes to ‘Oh woe, woe, woe.’
‘What is it now, Alice?’
‘Perhaps she won’t like me.’
‘Impossible.’
‘Perhaps none of them will like me.’
‘My dear Alice, children always love their mother, whether they see much of her or not. It’s an instinct.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘You goose. It was yourself.’
‘I’ve lost faith in it.’