She knew what she would have. She would begin with a bun, and go on
through two sorts of jam to Madeira cake, and end with raspberries and
cream. Or perhaps it would be safer to begin with raspberries and cream.
She kept her face very still, so as not to look greedy, and tried not to
stare at the Madeira cake lest people should see she was thinking of it.
Mrs. Hancock had given her somebody else's crumby plate. She thought: I'm
not greedy. I'm really and truly hungry. She could draw herself in at the
waist with a flat, exhausted feeling, like the two ends of a concertina
coming together.

She was doing this when she saw her mother standing on the other side of
the table, looking at her and making signs.

"If you've finished, Hatty, you'd better get up and let that little boy
have something."

They were all turning round and looking at her. And there was the crumby
plate before her. They were thinking: "That greedy little girl has gone on
and on eating." She got up suddenly, not speaking, and left the table, the
Madeira cake and the raspberries and cream. She could feel her skin all
hot and wet with shame.

And now she was sitting up in the drawing-room at home. Her mother had
brought her a piece of seed-cake and a cup of milk with the cream on it.
Mamma's soft eyes kissed her as they watched her eating her cake with
short crumbly bites, like a little cat. Mamma's eyes made her feel so
good, so good.

"Why didn't you tell me you hadn't finished?"