A long pause. She noticed little things about him. The proud, handsome corners of his mouth had loosened; his eyelids didn't fit nicely as they used to do; they hung slack from the eyebone.
"You care more for Roddy than you do for Mark," he said.
"I don't care for him half so much. But I'm sorry for him. You can't be sorry for Mark…. Roddy wants me and Mark doesn't. He wants nobody but Mamma."
"He knows what he wants…. Well. It's my fault. I should have known what
I wanted. I should have taken you a year ago."
"If you had," she said, "it would have been all over now."
"I wonder, would it?"
For the life of her she couldn't imagine what he meant.
When she got home she found her mother folding up the work in the work-basket.
"Well, anyhow," Mamma said, "you've laid in a good stock of underclothing."