"
Joan shot a glance from over her cup. The poor puzzled face was staring
into the fire. Joan could almost hear him saying it.
"I'm sure I am," she said. "Make home-coming a change to him. As you
said yourself the other evening. It's good for him to get away from it
all, now and then."
"I must try," agreed Mrs. Phillips, looking up. "What sort of things
ought I to talk to him about, do you think?"
Joan gave an inward sigh. Hadn't the poor lady any friends of her own.
"Oh, almost anything," she answered vaguely: "so long as it's cheerful
and non-political. What used you to talk about before he became a great
man?"
There came a wistful look into the worried eyes. "Oh, it was all so
different then," she said. "'E just liked to--you know. We didn't seem
to 'ave to talk. 'E was a rare one to tease. I didn't know 'ow clever
'e was, then."
It seemed a difficult case to advise upon. "How long have you been
married?" Joan asked.
"Fifteen years," she answered. "I was a bit older than 'im. But I've
never looked my age, they tell me.
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