"But you know now?"
"Yes, I know now," Fanny said.
"What'll happen," said Barbara, "if I make jokes?"
"Nothing. He'll never see them."
"If he saw daddy's—"
"Oh, but he didn't. That was me."
Barbara was thoughtful. "I daresay," she said, "you won't keep me long.
Supposing I can't do the work?"
"The work?" Fanny's eyes were interrogative and a little surprised, as though they were saying, "Who said work? What work?"
"Well, Mr. Waddington's work. I've got to help him with his book, haven't I?"
"Oh, his book, yes. When he's writing it. He isn't always. Does he look," said Fanny, "like a man who'd always be writing a book?"