"If you had," said Nicky, "I wouldn't have interfered."
"I wouldn't interfere if I thought you cared that for Desmond. But you don't. You know you don't."
"Of course I care for her."
He said it stoutly, but he coloured all the same, and Vera knew that he was vulnerable.
"Oh, Nicky dear, if you'd only waited--"
"What do you mean?"
His young eyes interrogated her austerely; and she flinched. "I don't know what I mean. Unless I mean that you're just a little young to marry anybody."
"I don't care if I am. I don't feel young, I can tell you. Anyhow Desmond's years younger."
"Desmond is twenty-three. You're twenty. It's Veronica who's years younger."
"Veronica?"