"I wish I met 'em."
"Don't be so tiresome please" she said. "Who d'you think you are anyway?"
"Well who then?"
"A most attractive man whose family life may just about be broken up from all accounts."
"You flatter me."
"No John you simply shall not take this stupid silly line. To all sorts and kinds of horrors waiting in their lairs you're a whole line of goods freshly come into the swim."
"Oh now you must grant me some powers of choice."
"But that's exactly it, I don't. How can I? You're only making fun while they're in wait there with the dread wretched lives they lead-no to give the present government its due they always did though it's not for me to praise politicians God help us-those frightful endless days and nights have taught them so they're on watch for the slightest sign of backsliding."
"Now Jane you really can't make poor Liz out into a harpy or a pike!"
"Can't I!"
"You may not like her, she might not be the sort of person for you but at least she's not that kind."
"Well my dear" she agreed "you know how I always do go rather far. Mr Thicknesse has often told me. 'Dear lady' he's said and isn't it fantastic there are still people to call one that, 'your tongue will one day cost a deal of money.' It never has yet you know but then perhaps one's friends are more loyal than sometimes we suppose. You see I expect they must be. Because when I say what I do about Liz I don't really mean anything, only that she's such a horrid beast who simply oughtn't to be alive."
"No Jane there are occasions you can go too far!"
There was a pause which she filled by getting him more sherry.
"I'm sorry John but I mean every word for the best."
"Doesn't one always? Is that a valid excuse?"
"She doesn't."
"Then what exactly do you hold against the poor woman?"
"She's not poor she's even very attractive in her own way, though of course she must have been to have the success she has. Oh what it takes to keep on learning one isn't the only pebble on the beach!"
"You don't suppose Dick Abbot is enamoured?" he asked with a degree of sarcasm in his voice.
"Richard?" she cried. For a moment she returned to her usually gay manner. "That sweet man! Never in the whole wide world!! How could he be?"
"Then Jane you just can't really accept any soul who sees Liz?"
"What d'you mean? That I care who she sees?"
"No, quite" he agreed in a small voice.
"All I said was" she went on "and presuming oh yes I am on old friendship, was that she couldn't mustn't be the one for you-t think I mean mustn't, really John darling!"
"And why? How mustn't?"
"But the woman drinks."
"Now Jane that's most unfair. You know she never has."
"I'm very sorry to say I know nothing of the kind."
"Good God then where and when?"
"My dear John! In the bedroom I expects."
"How can you speak of her bedroom?"
"Why should I know? I don't get in it."
"No Jane this is honestly almost unpleasant. We might, we may from time to time have had something for each other, Liz and I, but really I don't feel you have the right-"
"Don't I darling?"
"In what way then?"
"If I see you take a wrong turn, after all these years can't I say what I feel?"
"But we're here tonight to talk about the children."
"And isn't that just what we are discussing John?"
"No we never seem to get away from my own marriage which I give you my word is the first I've heard and which seems to be Liz all the time."
"Do you maintain she doesn't drink then John?"
"Well she certainly wasn't bottled at Eddie's as Maud Winder said she might be."
"How can you tell?"
"But I was there Jane."
"I'm going to say something darling, may make you rather cross. It's simply that when you're out with her you sometimes are inclined to take a drop too much yourself."
"Oh now Jane this is preposterous! I wasn't that way at Eddie's."
"How can you possibly judge my dear? Oh I'm not trying to make out you are a soak like poor William Smith, so much so that his wife had to leave him, you remember sad Myra-what's happened to her-couldn't face pouring the whisky down his throat when he lost his arms? I'm not pretending anything. I only maintain which I shall until the day I die that when you're out with the woman, and it's not necessarily anything noticeable, you aren't sometimes a very good judge perhaps of how much someone else has taken."
He swallowed air three or four times.
"I still don't see how all this has to do with Philip and Mary" he objected.
"I do" she said.
"Well how then?" he almost shouted.
"Now you're simply not to bully me in my own house" she announced. "I have such a headache into the bargain."
"I'm sorry Jane" he said, quieter.
There was a pause after which she said in a small voice, "I had no call to tell you what I did either."
"Oh I know you meant it for the best" He smiled.
"I not only meant it, it was best" she rejoined.
"Very well" he agreed. "But you might admit you could be wrong about Liz."
"Of course I may. Yet I'm not."
He swallowed air again. "All right darling" he admitted.
"That's better" she said.
"Still I don't get drunk Jane."
"No there I admit I went too far dear John. I got upset."
"Dear me!" He smiled. "What we all go through when the children want to settle their lives for themselves."
"What we go through to avoid what we might have to go through" she took him up at once.
"Yes very well Jane" he agreed.
"Oh my headache is so bad" she said visibly wilting.
"You ought to lie down."
At this moment Isabella flung the door open to announce something in a flood of words, presumably that dinner was served. Mrs Weatherby thanked her.
"It's hammering round my head" she wailed.
"Why don't you go along then Jane?"
"D'you know I simply feel I must. But whatever will you think of me?"
"I'll bring you yours in on a tray."
"You'll do nothing of the kind" she objected. "What would Isabella simply think? No when I get one of my sick headaches I just can't eat anything. I must shut my poor aching eyes in the dark. But what will you do John dear? Oh how rude I am!"
"I can get a bite at the Club."
"Certainly not. No you'll dine here I insist. Not that it'll be worth having. Oh dear!"
"I'm so sorry Jane and I hope you'll be better tomorrow. Sure there isn't anything I've foolishly said?"
"How could there be? No you'll simply have to forgive."
While he kissed her cheek as she prepared to leave he ventured once more, "And you've heard nothing fresh from the children?"
"Not a word" she replied, then disappeared tragically smiling.
SOON after this, with the day's work done, Mary Pomfret came to her father when he was alone over an evening paper.
"Daddy is there any news?" she asked.
"Of the wedding stakes?" he cried. "But I have none."
"Because oh dear it's not going well I think Daddy!"
"Engagements never do my dear."
"You are such a comfort" she said. "And it's so complicated. Still I suppose everything always is."
"I nearly went mad when I became engaged to your mother."
"Did you? Oh Daddy what I want to know is the line Mrs Weatherby's taking?"
"Funny you should ask. I took old Dick Abbot out and put him that very question. I should think he sees more of Jane than anyone these days. He seemed rather to be of the opinion she hadn't quite made her mind up yet. Now you know I consider I can read Jane as well as the next man and I'd say myself she was enthusiastic, hand on my heart I would."