He had sense enough not to begin by asking questions.
“I was just going to take a breather round by the Fields. Suppose you’re booked for something?”
“No.”
“Well, why shouldn’t I tell you all about Christmas! Jane’s coming to look you up.”
“That’s very good of her.”
They started off together with a tacit acceptance of the situation, Mr. Parfit showing an elaborate politeness in taking the outside of the pavement. His whole air was that of a cheery and paternal bachelor on his very best and most benignant behaviour. And Eve, without knowing quite why, trusted him.
“We had a gorgeous time down at Croydon.”
“I’m so glad. I enjoyed the chocolates and the books. I suppose the sugar-box was a great success?”
“Rather! I had a joke with the kids. I had two lots of presents, one lot on top, the other down below. Up above there were two pairs of socks for Percy, a prayer-book for Fred, a box of needles and cottons for Beatie, and a goody-goody book for Mab. You should have seen their faces, and the way the little beggars tried to gush and do the polite. ‘Oh, uncle, it’s just what I wanted!’ But it was all right down below. They found the right sort of loot down there.”
Eve laughed, and was surprised at the spontaneity of her own laughter. She had not laughed like that for many weeks.