"She's young," said Warner, his voice all bitterness, "and it wouldn't
actually be twenty years."
The door on the right opened for a court officer, who spoke to someone
over his shoulder. Warner stood up, breathing carefully. Edith caught
his arm; he looked down almost angrily. "Cecil, tell her I'd like her to
try it in watercolor."
"Oh. Yes. I'll go with her now." He was hurrying down the aisle.