We'll see presently.'
'Might I inquire if you live on cigars and coffee?'
'No,' he answered satirically; 'I live on eau sucre. And porreege. I'm
Scotch.'
'I can't talk to you if you're so silly.'
'You'll tell me the important part on the little sofa upstairs in the
salon,' he said. 'After dinner. Tonight, here, somehow, the food and the
faces distract one--unless one is making an acquaintance. I know you too
well to talk at dinner.'
'Quite true. I ought to take time to think then.'
'There's no hurry. Good heavens! the man has waited four years; he can
wait another week. Quelle idee!'
'He's going back,' said Edith, 'as soon as he's well. He wants me to
promise before he goes.'
'Does he! You remind me of the man who said to his wife: "Good-bye, my
dear, I'm off to the Thirty Years' War." It's all right, Edith. We'll
find a solution, I have no fears.'
She turned to Mr Mitchell.
* * * * *
The rest of the evening passed pleasantly. Alone with the women, Madame
Frabelle was the centre of an admiring circle, as she lectured on 'dress
and economy in war-time,' and how to manage a house on next to nothing a
year.
Pages:
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163