She said: "It seems terrible to me to banish Eden to the Hut."
"It isn't safe to have him in the house with the boys."
"And Finch is back! What a frightful responsibility life is for some people! While others . . . That is what takes my appetite—worry."
"Finch will be all right, now. . . . He's a queer young devil. You can't get at him."
She observed, with complacence: "Finch would never have run away if I had been at home. Aunt Augusta simply cannot understand boys."
Renny was listening to the voice. He asked: "Is that girl always singing?"
His sister nodded, as though in confirmation of inexpressible things. She bent toward him, whispering: "You know, it's going to be terribly trying for me having Pheasant here. Nothing but my love for Piers would induce me. She made up to Minny Ware at once. Already they are talking together in corners. . . . I ignore them."
A heavy step was heard in the hall. A knuckle touched the panel of the door.
Meg's smooth brow showed a pucker, but she murmured: "Come in."
The tap came again. "He didn't hear you," said Renny. "Hello, Maurice!"
The door opened and Vaughan appeared. His greying hair was rumpled, his Norfolk jacket hung unevenly from his broad shoulders.
"Been having a nap?" asked Renny.
He nodded, grinning apologetically. "Anything private under discussion? I only came for my pipe. Left it somewhere about." He thought: "Why does Meggie look at me that way? A damned funny look."
"I was just asking Meggie whether Miss Ware ever stops singing," said Renny. "A joyous sort of being to have about. I wish we could borrow her for Jalna." He thought: "Marriage is the devil. She's got old Maurice just where she wants him."
