I looked at my godmother with new interest, having learnt what had befallen Uncle Luke.

She wore her hair in an old-fashioned way which became her.

It was in loops each side of her forehead, displaying her ears, and was then taken up and plaited at the back of her head.

The fashion was a quarter of a century old but nothing could have been prettier.
She took Dido's head between her hands and looked down into her eyes.
"She is growing very old, Bawn," she said sadly.
It reminded me of something Maureen had said and had not explained.
"Who gave Dido to Uncle Luke ?" I asked.
She turned red and pale.
"What have you been hearing, Bawn ?" she asked.
"Maureen has been talking to me about Uncle Luke.

I did not think it wrong to listen to her, since I knew that I was to hear the story from you." "Maureen did not spare me," she said in a low voice.
"For the matter of that she said nothing.