Thursday, 9 October 2014

she always felt cheerier at breakfast

'How can you eat that sawdust, Father?' she inquired, beginning on eggs and bacon and speaking cheerfully because it was a fine morning and only ten minutes past nine; and somehow, at the beginning of every new day, there was always a chance that this one might be different from all the rest. Something might happen; and then everything would be jollier all round.
Madge did not see clearly into her feelings; she only knew that she always felt cheerier at breakfast than at tea.


'What time did you say Viola's train gets in?' Tina asked her mother; she sometimes found the Wither silences unendurable.
'Half-past twelve, dear.'
'Just in nice time for lunch.'
'You know perfectly well that Viola's train gets in at half-past twelve,' intoned Mr Wither slowly, raising his eyelids to look at Tina, 'so why ask your mother? You talk for the sake of talking, it's a silly habit.' He slowly looked down again at his little bowl of mushy cereal.
'I'd forgotten,' said Tina. She continued vivaciously, at the silence. 'Don't you loathe getting to a place before twelve o'clock, Madge – too late for breakfast and too early for lunch?'
Stella Gibbons
Nightingale Wood (1938)

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