"Now Richard" Mrs Weatherby remonstrated with some firmness. "Humour is not your long suit you know. I don't think what you're pretending a bit funny my dear."
"I can't see why everything should be different for men" Miss Jennings objected.
"Because they're expected to have women in and I imagine in all my innocence we're not supposed to have men" Jane said.
"I know that of course" Liz replied emptying her glass. "But I still don't see the big blot. If there's no more to it than low gossip then, while dreadful enough of course, should one change one's whole life round just for that!"
"I'd have thought there was a question of children" Mr Abbot explained. "Women having babies eh?"
"Richard" Mrs Weatherby cried in great good humour but in a stern voice. "Do please don't become coarse! Men can have children too can't they?"
"Dreadfully sorry and all that but girls do saddle themselves with the little things, have done since the start of time."
"Not Mary though" Jane said.
"No Richard's perfectly right" John assured them.
"The danger must be greater as you yourself admitted when you confessed you'd not care to have an outraged mother at your bell, the heavy expectant daughter at her heels. After all Liz you can look after yourself."
"Can I?" she interjected and was ignored.
"No what we were discussing" Mr Pomfret went on "was how to gently ease the fledglings from the downy nest. They have to learn to fly sometime. I know Mary will be all right but Jane doesn't want Philip a runner."
"Darling my boy's not won a race in his life."
"Wounded bird, broken wing, Jane" Mr Abbot explained.
THE young people for Philip's twenty-firster consisted of Philip Weatherby, Mary Pomfret. Elaine Winder and the youth she had brought with her, Derek Wolfram. These four made up one of the round tables.
Elaine had drawn attention to Miss Jennings to ask if her name was what it was. On being assured this could be so, she inquired whether Liz was a particular friend of anyone present; Philip looked at Mary, had no sign, kept silent, and Miss Winder then continued.
"Well my children" she said "the way some women do go on! t saw this with my own sore eyes. Mummy had taken me to a certain party. We brought along a bottle of champagne as a matter of fact which turned out to be a bit of a swindle because no one else had, in fact a woman old enough to be my grandmother just took one of vermouth. There's nothing cheaper surely, I mean you have to pay more for orangeade don't you? Anyway there was this person Miss Jennings, right next me on a sofa where I'd managed to tuck myself in because there was not a soul for me about, it was one of these so-called literary dos, God no. I was listening to a conversation she was having with a type who'd sat himself down between, no friend of mine good Lord, I wouldn't have touched him with a bargepole but anyway there he was and he seemed to know her and that was that when suddenly I heard him say, 'Can't I get you another drink?' and she mumbled something although I didn't take particular notice at the time if you know what I mean. But to cut a long story short" Miss Winder ended tamely, perhaps rather daunted by the degree the others were paying attention which possibly she was not always accustomed to receive, Miss Elaine Winder said "well anyway the lady was sozzled and Mummy who was in the doorway saw her trip over the rug later and be carried off. Properly-no I don't know it may have been rucked up and she'd caught her toe, I can't tell, wish you'd been there Derek, Lord I had a lousy time. I say are we going to dance after?"
THESE round tables were large enough to allow one couple to talk without the other hearing what passed.
Maybe it was on account of the champagne or possibly because Jane and John seemed to be rather wrapped up in one another but Dick Abbot said to Liz "I say you know but you look perfectly ravishing tonight."
"I do?"
"You certainly are."
"Well thanks very much Richard" she responded.
"Makes me feel so embarrassed talking about the younger generation in front of you" he continued. "Lord you're a part of 'em yet we go on as if you weren't there. Can't think what you must make of us."
"You're such a friendly person" Miss Jennings announced. "Richard I feel so at home with you!"
"You do? I'm honoured Liz. Nicest thing one can be told, that. But of course I haven't the airs and graces."
"I don't know what you mean by it! When I find a person's cosy that's all I ask. Because what are we here for? Life's not so wonderful surely that we can afford to miss any single chance-not to help the lame dog over a stile, I don't mean, it seems so disobliging to draw attention in that way somehow, I mean about being lame, as practi- cally no one ils except poor Arthur Morris; now where was I-oh yes What I'm trying to explain is we've each one of us simply got to stay careful for each other don't you feel or we're absolutely nothing, I mean lower than the lowest worm that crawls?"
"Always say must respect the next man or Richard you've had it."
"But I can't get the extraordinary phrase you used about your not having the social graces whatever that may add up to although I believe I understand quite well because of course real politeness which is only fellow feeling, isn't it, is no more than that; all I'm trying to say, you see is if a person's cosy it's perfection, true manners, what distinguishes us from animals."
"Jolly though when a cat curls up on one's knee."
"Yes and then they go spitting in each other's faces soon as the moon is up and they've found a brick wall. Oh one can't trust them Richard, that is what's so awful but you've only to look into their eyes don't you agree, just like goats?"
"Don't know, you know. I'm very partial to a cat."
"Well take birds then. What could be sweeter than a robin redbreast yet there's someone been studying them, did you read the book, and they're the fiercest things alive he says, would you believe it?"
"Jungle law" the man agreed.
"And some of these debs" she went on. "Since you were speaking of their generation weren't you? Why I could tell stories but I'm simply not that sort of person. With sleek heads and skins and no knowledge of the world, of how people can count to one another I mean-well some of them are no better than goats there you are, than farmyard goats."
"Remember I passed two common women once outside a pub and one said to the other 'you filthy Irish git.'"
"What's a git then?" she inquired.
"Goat" he replied.
"How truly curious" she agreed. "But you do see this my way?" she proceeded. "Oh Richard it is so rare to find a man who looks through the surface as you can, deep down to what really's there." She lowered her voice, glanced over to Jane and John still engrossed, in themselves then hitched her chair closer to Mr Abbot's. "Life" she continued "is not all going back on one's tracks, ferreting out old friends to have a cosy chat with, one simply can't forever be looking over a shoulder Richard to what's dead and gone. Such a blind view of life. No, you have to look forward, face the future whatever that may bring."
"No friend like an old friend" he claimed.
"You're not onto what I mean" she said. "Take John now. There are times I could shake him, just shake him. You know what they were once supposed to mean to one another and never will again those two well as if that wasn't enough he's always going back. He won't admit if you ask him but he's got an idea that once he's had anything in his life he's only to lift his voice to get that back once more and dear Jane's too sweet to let him see."
"Wonderful woman Jane."
"Isn't she?" Miss Jennings sighed. She drank down a full glass of wine. "Too sweet and wonderful. Sometimes. Any other woman would say 'Now look john dear I admit we once meant everything to each other and you practically broke your wife's heart over me, but all of it's been finished a long time now, happened many lovers' moons ago and can't come to life again, these little things never do.'"