She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. ‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. Anyhow, he did not sentimentalize her. She reflected before answering. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. He could talk to her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. The delay was only momentary. My vengeance is completely gratified. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. “I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said. It is a lovely little appendage to the mother who smiles over it, and it does things quaintly like her, gestures with her very gestures. "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan.
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