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When the boat had disappeared, Vere lifted herself up and turned round
to her mother.
"Isn't he a jolly boy, Madre?"
"Yes," said Hermione.
She spoke in a low voice. Her eyes were still on the sea where the
boat had passed.
"Yes," she repeated, almost as if to herself.
For the first time a little cloud went over Vere's sensitive face.
"Madre, how horribly I must have disappointed you," she said.
The mother did not break into protestations. She always treated her
child with sincerity.
"Just for a moment, Vere," she answered. "And then, very soon, you
made me feel how much more intimate can be the relationship between a
mother and a daughter than between a mother and any son."
"Is that true, really?"
"I think it is."
"But why should that be?"
"Don't you think that Monsieur Emile can tell you much better than I?
I feel all the things, you know, that he can explain."
There was a touch of something that was like a half-hidden irony in
her voice.
"Monsieur Emile! Yes, I think he understands almost everything about
people," said Vere, quite without irony.


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