Earles was absolutely indifferent. She hated living like that. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. Teddy Widgett hovered on the fringe of all these gatherings, blinking at Ann Veronica and occasionally making a wildly friendly dash at her, and carrying her and Miss Miniver off to drink cocoa with a choice diversity of other youthful and congenial Fabians after the meetings. But though the breach was large enough to admit him below, he could not squeeze his bulky person through the aperture into the Red Room. He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always rose when she entered or left the room.
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