That was always the burden of the conversations with which she beguiled their long hours together. For Mrs. Cloud was pathetically absorbed in Timothy, and Justin had grown adroit in calculating and evading his sister-in-law’s whereabouts. Laura, as Mrs. Cloud told Aunt Adela in an apologetic call, was invaluable. She got on so well with Coral. Indeed, as she said one day to her son, she was doing Coral good. Hadn’t Justin noticed how much quieter poor dear Coral had grown in manner? But neither Mrs. Cloud nor Justin noticed how much good Coral was doing Laura. For Laura, doing her duty with wide eyes and ears and mouth, drank in knowledge that had never before come her way: was introduced to facts—facts as crude and obvious as bread-and-cheese—and that, often enough, in a fashion that would have appalled Aunt Adela and would have been incomprehensible to Mrs. Cloud. For Coral, inevitably, sprinkled her conversation with tales of the trade, occasionally funny, invariably coarse—tales so complicatedly Rabelaisian that Laura, that seeker after knowledge, would wrinkle her brows and ask questions, and Coral would double up with laughter and sometimes explain. But the explanations were even more extraordinary than the stories. Now and then she carried a perplexity to Justin. He, in his sensible fashion, always explained the point that would have horrified Aunt Adela, and, though he laughed, agreed with her that it was not really funny. Laura was satisfied. She liked Justin. She knew where she was with Justin. He never left his sentences unfinished. She was superior one day when Coral began, as usual, to tease her. “Oh, I understand that now. I asked Justin.” “You didn’t! You haven’t? Really, Laura!” For once Coral was shocked. “I never heard of such a thing! Haven’t you any sense of decency? To ask a man——! I wonder you’re not ashamed.” And then, with a giggle, “What did he say?” “Oh, he just told me,” said Laura, puzzled at Coral’s heat. “Didn’t you fall through the floor? My dear, you mustn’t! I can’t tell you things if you——Oh, really, Laura, you’re the limit!” Coral was divided between laughter and real annoyance. “But I always ask Justin everything,” Laura remonstrated. “Why shouldn’t I? Of course I shouldn’t dream of telling Aunt Adela. But Justin!” And Coral, that typical stage mixture of frankness and prudery, was forced to realize that she was entirely and unsuspiciously sincere. “D’you tell him anything?” she gasped. “Well, who else can I ask? He was at Oxford, you know. He knows an awful lot.” “He must be a decent sort! My word!” Coral was impressed for once. “He’s Justin,” said Laura placidly.