they sat down to
the meal she had done her best to spoil, she had eaten so slowly that it
dragged on interminably; and all the while had kept her great eyes fixed
on Richard's face, so that though he sometimes turned aside and spoke to
Ellen, he was always drawn away from her by his sense of that strong,
exigent gaze. The minute they had finished, when there seemed a chance
of their settling down in some more easy grouping by the fire, Marion
had curtly and disagreeably asked him if he had gone through the papers
about the mortgage; and when he answered that he had not been able to
keep his mind on them she had told him to go upstairs and finish them
just as if he were a child.

Ellen raised her upper lip over her teeth at the thought of Marion's
subsequent awkwardness. There had not, when she announced her plan of
taking Richard and Ellen up to town the next morning and spending the
day shopping and going to a theatre, been the least real party-giving
joy in her tone. Her will seemed to be holding her voice in its hands
like a concertina and waving it to and fro and squeezing out of it all
sorts of notes; but the sound of generous happiness would not come. And
when Ellen tried to tell her that it was very kind of her, but for
herself she would rather stay quietly in the country and go for a walk
with Richard, the woman had simply lifted her voice to a higher pitch
and said: "Oh, but it'll be great fun. We must go before Sunday is on
us." She was evidently one of those managing bodies who are accustomed
to ride rough-shod over the whole world, and often do it under the
pretence of kindness. It was most cunning the way she rang for the cook
to try and make it seem that there was a pressing domestic reason for
her taking this jaunt. But cook had let her down badly, staring in such
ingenuous amazement, and blurting out: "Oh Lor', mum, I don't want no
aluminium set now. All I said was I thought our copper saucepans would
need re-coppering in a year or so, and that, considering the trouble and
expense that meant, we might as well restock with aluminium." There had
been a hysterical stridency about the way in which Marion had flouted
the woman's protests by repeating over and over again: "Yes, you shall
have them now. There's not the smallest reason why you should wait for
them. I shall go up to Harrod's to-morrow morning."

Indeed, Marion was a queer woman in all respects, from her broad face
and squat body to her forced,