’ ‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla. “Only four spoonsful left,” she declared briskly, “and your turn to buy the next pound, Sydney. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. "He called me a wanton, Hoddy. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. Faugh!” She took up the last morsel of roll, and held it delicately between her long slim fingers.
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