Emerging from the "pastry-cook's," Soames' first impulse was to
vent his nerves by saying to his daughter: "Dropping your
handkerchief!" to which her reply might well be: "I picked that up
from you!" His second impulse therefore was to let sleeping dogs
lie. But she would surely question him. He gave her a sidelong
look, and found she was giving him the same. She said softly:

"Why don't you like those cousins, Father?"

Soames lifted the corner of his lip.

"What made you think that?"

"Cela se voit."

'That sees itself!' What a way of putting it!

After twenty years of a French wife Soames had still little
sympathy with her language; a theatrical affair and connected in
his mind with all the refinements of domestic irony.

"How?" he asked.

"You MUST know them; and you didn't make a sign. I saw them
looking at you."

"I've never seen the boy in my life," replied Soames with perfect
truth.

"No; but you've seen the others, dear."