What's the idea of the black border?" "My father recently died, sir. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent. It's always hard work for a rich man's son to stand alone. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. He smiled complacently. Women, she had been taught, who exposed the flesh of their bodies under the eyes of man were in a special catagory of the damned. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. .
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