" "Graves. Sheppard, you mean, Sir," interrupted his wife, ironically. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. They laughed and talked and stared about them. " Mrs. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. These sisters moved in a grown-up world inaccessible to Ann Veronica’s sympathies, and to a large extent remote from her curiosity.
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