This was a house of mourning and he wished himself anywhere but here. They walked down a short passageway and into the kitchen, which was crowded with young McCabes. A woman he took to be Mrs McCabe was sitting at the kitchen table with her head resting on her sprawled arms. She was crying rhythmically in great tearing sobs and the children around her were crying too. Alec saw brimming eyes on each side of him and felt his own grow wet. Jimmy was crying, wiping his face with the heels of his hands as though he, too, were still just a little boy at heart. Perhaps we all are, Alec thought humbly, knowing that he would have reacted much as Jimmy was doing had it been his own father who had died. ‘Jimmy. Oh, my dear, I’m so dreadfully sorry. I came round just as soon as I heard the news to see if there was anything I could do.’ The speaker was a tall, slender girl with a mass of golden, curly hair and large blue eyes. Even at such a moment, Alec saw that she had the longest eyelashes he had ever seen, a small straight nose and skin like milk.
