dead--stretched out on their death beds--you'd see their souls, like
long, fat white slugs stretched out too, glued to their bodies.... You
know what they think? They think we met each other on purpose. They think
we're engaged."

"I don't care," she said. "It doesn't matter what they think."

They laughed at the silliness of the family from Birmingham. He had been
there five days.

* * * * *

"I--, sa-ay--"

Gwinnie's voice drawled in slow meditative surprise.

The brooding curiosity had gone out of her face. Gwinnie's face, soft and
schoolgirlish between the fawn gold bands and plaited ear bosses of her
hair, the pink, pushed out mouth, the little routing nose, the thick grey
eyes, suddenly turned on you, staring.

Gwinnie had climbed up on to the bed to hear about it. She sat hunched up
with her arms round her knees rocking herself on the end of her spine;
and though she stared she still rocked. She was happy and excited because
of her holiday.

"It can't make any difference, Gwin. I'm the same Charlotte. Don't tell
me you didn't know I was like that."

"Of course I knew it. I know a jolly lot more than you think, kid."