He drew himself up with some pride, and pulled at the cup which Cuckoo pushed towards him.
"I'm just what Val makes me; just what he makes me," he said, taking obvious joy in the thought. "Val can make me do anything. You know that, doctor?"
"Yes. Then you have changed with him, become more of a man, as you call it, with him. Is that so, Julian?"
"I suppose so."
Julian was drinking his tea, which had become very strong from standing.
"And are you happier than you were before?"
The doctor spoke insistently and gravely. Cuckoo had taken Jessie onto her lap and now stroked the little dog quickly and softly with a thin, fluttering hand. Julian seemed trying to think, to dive into his mind and discover its real feelings.
"I suppose so," he said presently. "But who's happy? I should like to know. Cuckoo isn't. Are you, Cuckoo?"
It seemed a cruel question, addressed to that spectre of girlhood.
"I dunno," she answered swiftly. "It don't matter much either way."