And all the time Auntie Emmy was talking to Frances very loud and fast.
"Frances, I do think your garden's too beautiful for words. How clever of you to think of clearing away the old flower-beds. I hate flower-beds on a lawn. Yet I don't suppose I should have had the strength of mind to get rid of them if it bad been me."
As she talked Auntie Emmy opened her eyes very wide; her eyebrows jerked, the left one leaping up above the right; she thrust out her chin at you and her long, inquiring nose. Her thin face was the play of agitated nerve-strings that pulled it thus into perpetual, restless movements; and she made vague gestures with her large, bony hands. Her tongue went tick-tack, like a clock. Anthony said you-could hear Emmy's tongue striking the roof of her-mouth all thee time.
"And putting those delphiniums all together like that--Massing the blues. Anthony? I do think Anthony has perfect taste. I adore delphiniums."
Auntie Emmy was behaving as if neither Michael nor Baby John was there.
"Don't you think John-John's too beautiful for words?" said Frances. "Don't you like him a little bit too?"
Auntie Emmy winced as if Frances had flicked something in her face.
"Of course I like him too. Why shouldn't I?"
"I don't think you do, Auntie Emmy," Michael said.
Auntie Emmy considered him as for the first time.