“Yes, I did. When I wore short skirts I kissed him, too!”
“Did you? W—what did he wear?”
“Knickerbockers, silly! You don't think he was still in the cradle, do you? I'm not as aged as that!”
“I missed a great deal in my childhood,” said Sylvia naïvely.
“By not knowing Stephen? Pooh! He used to pinch me, and then we'd put out our tongues in mutual derision. Once—”
“Stop!” said Sylvia faintly. “And anyhow, you probably taught him.... Look at him as he saunters across the lawn, Leila—look at him!”
“Well? I see him.”
“Isn't he almost an ideal?”
“He is. He certainly is, dear.”
“Do you think he walks as though he were perfectly well?”