"I'm undressing farther along.
I'm going to bathe with Mrs.Harry Kember." "Very well." But Mrs.Fairfield's lips set.

She disapproved of Mrs Harry Kember.

Beryl knew it.
Poor old mother, she smiled, as she skimmed over the stones.

Poor old mother! Old! Oh, what joy, what bliss it was to be young....
"You look very pleased," said Mrs.Harry Kember.

She sat hunched up on the stones, her arms round her knees, smoking.
"It's such a lovely day," said Beryl, smiling down at her.
"Oh my dear!" Mrs.Harry Kember's voice sounded as though she knew better than that.