"He wasn't. He wasn't."
"Of course he was laughing at you. What did you think he was doing?"
"I thought he was interested."
"He wasn't, then. Men," Mamma said, "are not interested in little book-worms. He told me it was very bad for you."
Shame again. Hot, burning and scalding shame. He was only laughing at her.
"Mark doesn't laugh at me," she said. The thought of Mark and of his love for her healed her wound.
"A precious deal," Mamma said, "you know about Mark."
Mamma was safe. Oh, she was safe. She knew that Mark loved her best.
VI.
On the cover of Pinnock's Catechism there was a small black picture of the Parthenon. And under it was written: