Very naturally he fell into thinking of these discreet and
well-governed West End streets as a part of his mother's atmosphere.
The house had a dignified portico, and always before he had got down
to the pavement the door opened agreeably and a second respectful
manservant stood ready. Then came the large hall, with its
noiseless carpets and great Chinese jars, its lacquered cabinets and
the wide staircase, and floating down the wide staircase, impatient
to greet him, light and shining as a flower petal, sweet and
welcoming, radiating a joyfulness as cool and clear as a dewy
morning, came his mother. "WELL, little man, my son," she would cry
in her happy singing voice, "WELL?"
So he thought she must always be, but indeed these meetings meant
very much to her, she dressed for them and staged them, she
perceived the bright advantages of her rarity and she was quite
determined to have her son when the time came to possess him. She
kissed him but not oppressively, she caressed him cleverly; it was
only on these rare occasions that he was ever kissed or caressed,
and she talked to his shy boyishness until it felt a more spirited
variety of manhood.
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