"Dear old chap," he said.
"That was kind of him.

He was always generous." He was silent for a while, with a quiet look on his face.
"Give him our love," he said.

"Tell him we came together, at the end." It was on her tongue to ask him, as so often she had meant to do of late, what had been the cause of her mother's illness--if illness it was: what it was that had happened to change both their lives.

But always something had stopped her--something ever present, ever watchful, that seemed to shape itself out of the air, bending towards her with its finger on its lips.
She stayed over the week-end; and on the Saturday, at her suggestion, they took a long excursion into the country.

It was the first time she had ever asked him to take her out.