“You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. My appearance is genuinely altered for the better. ‘Where the devil have you been?’ ‘Consorting with a nun in the gardens. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years. ’ ‘It’s already known,’ said Mrs Sindlesham, ‘judging by the number of callers we have had these two days. She followed him about persistently, and succeeded, after a brisk, unchivalrous struggle (in which he pinched and asked her to “cheese it”), in kissing him among the raspberries behind the greenhouse. "Well, it's a good story. And now she had sent Jack away.
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