CHAPTER XXXII
關燈
小
中
大
y-lineandthepartthatsmellsstrongestisthesky.”
“Well,askmeanother.Margaret—oh—whatwasIgoingtosay?How’sHelen?”
“Quitewell.”
“IsshenevercomingbacktoEngland?Everyonethinksit’sawfullyoddshedoesn’t.”
“Soitis,”saidMargaret,tryingtoconcealhervexation.Shewasgettingrathersoreonthispoint.“Helenisodd,awfully.Shehasnowbeenawayeightmonths.”
“Buthasn’tsheanyaddress?”
“AposterestantesomewhereinBavariaisheraddress.Dowriteheraline.Iwilllookitupforyou.”
“No,don’tbother.That’seightmonthsshehasbeenaway,surely?”
“Exactly.SheleftjustafterEvie’swedding.Itwouldbeeightmonths.”
“Justwhenbabywasborn,then?”
“Justso.”
Dollysighed,andstaredenviouslyroundthedrawing-room.Shewasbeginningtoloseherbrightnessandgoodlooks.TheCharles’swerenotwelloff,forMr.Wilcox,havingbroughtuphischildrenwithexpensivetastes,believedinlettingthemshiftforthemselves.Afterall,hehadnottreatedthemgenerously.Yetanotherbabywasexpected,shetoldMargaret,andtheywouldhavetogiveupthemotor.Margaretsympathised,butinaformalfashion,andDollylittleimaginedthatthestepmotherwasurgingMr.Wilcoxtomakethemamoreliberalallowance.Shesighedagain,andatlasttheparticulargrievancewasremembered.“Oh,yes,
