“Do not look so uncomfortable, both of you,” she begged. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. Her back stiffened. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. Ludicrously loud sounds streamed from the array of speakers. ‘You’re as mad as she is, Gerald. I don’t want to get old or to watch my kids get married or retire. In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. You see, we guys bump up against so much of the seamy side that we look upon everybody as guilty until proved innocent, which is hind-side-to. My people don’t know what to do. You’ll have to go back to Remenham House.
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