'
'But she can't be reading all those hours, surely?' and Bruce sat down,
satisfied with his appearance.
'One would think not. I used to think she was probably lying on the sofa
with cold cream on her face, or something of that sort. But she doesn't.
Once I went in,' Edith smiled, 'and found her doing Swedish exercises.'
'Good heavens! What a wonderful woman she is! Do you mean to say she's
learning Swedish, as well as all the other languages she knows?'
'No, no. I mean physical exercises. But go on, Bruce. I'm getting so
impatient.'
Bruce settled himself down comfortably, blew a ring of smoke, and then
began slowly:
'I never dreamt, Edith--'
'Oh, Bruce, are you going to tell me everything you never dreamt? We
shall take weeks getting to the point.'
'Don't be absurd. I'll get to the point at once then. Look here; I think
we ought to give a dinner for Madame Frabelle!'
'Oh, is that all? Of course! I've been wondering that you didn't wish to
do it long before now.'
'Have you? I'll tell you why. Thinking Madame Frabelle was a pal, er--a
friend--of the Conroys, it stood to reason, don't you see, that she knew
everyone in London; or could, if she liked--everyone worth knowing, I
mean.
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