It was an obvious remark but she received it without favour.

She told me positively that the best, the nicest men remained boys all their lives.
She was disappointed not to be able to detect anything boyish in her brother.

Very, very sorry.

She had not seen him for fifteen years or thereabouts, except on three or four occasions for a few hours at a time.
No.

Not a trace of the boy, he used to be, left in him.
She fell silent for a moment and I mused idly on the boyhood of little Fyne.