And at once it was clear he did not really mean it. He did not care. He was used to people adoring him, wanting from him what he never gave but always charmingly pretended to give. It was a deep pang in the heart. She cried out inwardly: ‘Ah, you don’t mean it!...’ Yet at the same time there was the melting glow because he had after all said it.
Another time he took a pin out of his coat and said:
‘D’you see what this is?’
‘A pin.’
‘Guess where I found it.’
‘In the seat of your chair.’
The flippancy was misplaced. He ignored it and said impressively:
‘In my pudding at school.’
‘Oh!’
‘I nearly swallowed it.’