as he's never had the politeness to come and see me."
"He's engaged right enough. I suppose he's happy. Gordon closes up like an oyster if you touch on anything personal. We've never discussed anything in our lives. Mother's frightfully pleased about it."
"What's the girl like?"
"Oh, she's all right, but she's cut to pattern."
"Pretty?"
"So so. Too bony, I think. But she suits Gordon. Related to everybody, rich, correct, hasn't got an original thought in her head. Thinks she's literary because young Shawn Bridlington the poet goes and reads his verses in her mother's drawing-room. Affects the Bloomsbury people. Opens bazaars and things. Jove! I'd rather marry a factory girl with a harelip."
Much of this was Greek to his aunt, who had the misfortune never to have heard of the Bloomsbury people.
"And what about Judy and that man she nearly ran over?"
"Why?" Noel asked innocently, not wishing to discuss Judy and her affairs with Connie. "What about them?"
"Is there anything in it? I hope not, because
