“Oh, that's my little daughter.”
“Really! Have you a daughter as big as that? Why, she must be seventeen!”
“Nearly eighteen!”
“What is her name?”
“Thyme,” said Cecilia, with a little smile. She felt that Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace was about to say: 'How charming!'
Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace saw her smile and paused. “Who is the young man with her?”
“My nephew, Martin Stone.”
“The son of your brother who was killed with his wife in that dreadful Alpine accident? He looks a very decided sort of young man. He's got that new look. What is he?”
“He's very nearly a doctor. I never know whether he's quite finished or not.”
“I thought perhaps he might have something to do with Art.”