'And alone.'
'Oh, all right,' said Laetitia, and Sheilah, from behind her closed eyes, heard her cross the room, on her heels, heavily, as her own mother used to walk, and lay the mirror down. And as she had longed for a closed door between herself and her mother, now she longed for it between herself and her child. A punishment perhaps. No, she was too sensible to believe that! Simply Nature repeating itself according to its way.
On the threshold Laetitia turned and hesitated.
'I wanted to ask you something.'
'What is it?'
'After supper can I go to the Movies to-night? The gang's all going, but I told them there wasn't any use my even asking.' 'Why—yes—go if you want to.'
'What?'
'I said, go, go, dear, if you want to.'
'The name of the picture is "His Six Wives."' remarked Laetitia.
'Is it? Well, do as you want to. I don't care, Please close the door when you go out.'
