We were so old, she and I, she had had me so young, that we were like a couple of old cronies, sexless, unrelated, with the same memories, the same rancours, the same expectations.
My sole consolation when I went upstairs for the night was that Mamma would come in and kiss me after I was in bed.
Their mother’s blossoming happiness had affected them deeply; it was like seeing the start of a good drenching rain.