"Why lie about them if they didn't matter?"
"I mean they didn't matter to me. They don't."
"My dear child, what on earth do you suppose they matter to me? What made you think they mattered?"
"The way you went on about them."
"Oh—the way I go on—Well, if that matters—"
She rose. I think she had heard the tinkle of the coffee-cups in the corridor and wanted to put an end to what in any hands but Jimmy's would have been an unseemly altercation.
"Will it matter if we go upstairs?"
"No. Not a bit." He snapped and twinkled at the same time.
She went, and Norah followed her.
Jevons settled himself in an armchair. I saw how unperturbed and deliberate he was as he took his coffee from the tray, and with what an incorrigible air he jerked his thumb towards the staircase. I can still hear him call up the staircase in a magisterial voice, "The ladies are in the study, Parker." When we were alone he fell into meditation.