“We have such jolly times,” Miriam said to Clara.
Mrs. Dawes ate her meal in a slow, dignified way. Whenever the men were present she grew distant.
“Do you like singing?” Miriam asked her.
“If it is good,” she said.
Paul, of course, coloured.
“You mean if it is high-class and trained?” he said.
“I think a voice needs training before the singing is anything,” she said.
“You might as well insist on having people’s voices trained before you allowed them to talk,” he replied. “Really, people sing for their own pleasure, as a rule.”
“And it may be for other people’s discomfort.”
“Then the other people should have flaps to their ears,” he replied.
The boys laughed. There was a silence. He flushed deeply, and ate in silence.
After tea, when all the men had gone but Paul, Mrs. Leivers s
