Such news of this kind as I received I gave to Betty, who passed it on to Phyllis Gedge.
Of course my intimacy with my dear Betty continued unbroken.

If the unmarried Betty had a fault, it was a certain sweet truculence, a pretty self-assertiveness which sometimes betrayed intolerance of human foibles.

Her widowhood had, in a subtle way, softened these little angularities of her spiritual contour.

And bodily, the curves of her slim figure had become more rounded.

She was no longer the young Diana of a year ago.