“In what way, sir?” inquired that dignified man.
“In her speech. She used to sound quite human—”
“I have endeavoured to instil into her some rudiments of grammar,” answered Limpet, “and a less nasal method of articulation. I am satisfied to find such a big improvement. I occupied the greater part of our honeymoon in teaching Mrs. Limpet the correct usage of certain adjectives and a more refined method of constructing sentences. I may say that I found her an apt pupil.”
“It must have been nice for her,” remarked Jimmy dryly.
When they reached the car they found Ginger resplendent in a new uniform at the wheel and learned that old Harker was quite well. He was still running the garage, which the Angel had given him now that she had no further use for it.
“Well,” said Jimmy when the luggage had been piled on a taxi and Limpet and Cordelia had driven off with it. “Here we are, home again. Respectable married people with leisure to enjoy life. Get in, wench, and let us drive to our ancestral home!”
*
The sunset was almost come and the slanting light fell mellow over the churchyard at Camberley. The girl with the big bunch of crimson roses stooped and laid them gently on the grave with the little white cross. ‘Sacred to the memory of Mary, Lady Easthanger—’ The inscription was new and showed clearly against the weathered stone. For a little while the girl stayed, touched by the last ray of the dying sun, and then she turned away and walked back to the man who awaited her in the car by the lych-gate.
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The Angel Page 17