Explore "The Expensive Halo" by Josephine Tey on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Sara heard him go, and her face softened as she stood listlessly unfastening her frock in front of her dressing-table in the chilly attic. Gareth was grown-up now, but he would always be a small boy at heart. She always thought of him, and sometimes spoke of him, as her "little" brother. It wasn't only his appearance that made one think of him as young; there was something in his lack of pose, in his unselfconsciousness, that was child-like. And delightful. He was a darling, Gareth. If one appealed to him to do a thing he did it as a matter of course. He would do anything for anyone, from matching silk to bearding a tax-collector.
She let her frock slide to the floor, picked it up, shook it out wearily and hung it on a hanger behind a curtain. Why had she talked like that to Gareth to-night? He must in some way be more grown up than she had ever suspected; there had been a real sympathy between them for those few minutes. She had had no consciousness, then, of her three years' superiority. And why, oh why, had she blushed! If there had been any adequate reason she might have forgiven herself. But there was no reason; no reason whatever.