'I'm very sorry, dear, but you
remember I told you I'm in a hurry.... I've an appointment at
Landi's studio.'
'Landi? And who is that?'
'You know him--the composer--Sir Tito.'
'Oh, darling Sir Tito! Of course I do know him!' She smiled
reminiscently. 'Won't you have anything to eat, dear? Do have a muffin!
Oh, bother, there are none. I wonder how it is cook always forgets? Then
you're going to send Madame Frabelle to see me the day after tomorrow?'
Edith took both her hands and shook them, laughing, as she stood up.
'I will arrange to send Miss Clay to see you, and if you like her, if
you don't mind waiting about ten days or a fortnight, you might engage
her. It would be doing her a great kindness. She's not happy at home.'
'Oh, poor girl!'
'And she went as a nurse,' continued Edith, 'chiefly because she
couldn't think of anything else to do. She isn't really strong enough
for nursing.'
'Isn't she? How sad, poor girl. It reminds me of a girl I met at
Boulogne. So pretty and nice. In very much the same position really. She
also wasn't happy at home--'
'This is the same girl,' said Edith. 'You wrote to me about her.
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