The young man, gazing at her with undisguised adoration, muttered:
“Rather!” and went out.
Noel's eyes lingered after him; Eve broke a silence.
“If you're going to have a bath before tea, Nollie, you'd better hurry up.”
“All right. Was it jolly in the Abbey, Daddy?”
“Lovely; like a great piece of music.”
“Daddy always puts everything into music. You ought to see it by moonlight; it's gorgeous then. All right, Eve; I'm coming.” But she did not get up, and when Eve was gone, cuddled her arm through her father's and murmured:
“What d'you think of Cyril?”
“My dear, how can I tell? He seems a nice-looking young man.”
“All right, Daddy; don't strain yourself. It's jolly down here, isn't it?” She got up, stretched herself a little, and moved away, looking like a very tall child, with her short hair curling in round her head.