We went into the house, hand-in-hand, and interviewed her.
She was in the bow-window, reading a translation of The Deipnosophists of Athenaeus.
“Good morning,” she said, looking at her watch. “It is a little past our usual breakfast time, Margie, I think?”
“We have been looking for mushrooms, mother.”
“Every investigation, says Athenaeus, which is guided by principles of Nature fixes its ultimate aim entirely on gratifying the stomach. Have you found any mushrooms?”
“Heaps, Mrs. Goodwin,” said James.
“Mother,” I said, “we want to tell you something.”
“The fact is, Mrs. Goodwin——”
“We are engaged.”
My mother liked James.