'What _could_ I have supposed it was, Edith? A plum pudding?' He
laughed very much.

'You are very humorous today, Bruce.'

She sat down with her hat, veil and gloves on, holding the letter. She
did not go to her room, because that would leave her no further
retreat. Bruce sat down exactly opposite to her, with his coat and
gloves on. He slowly drew off one glove, folded it carefully, and put
it down. Then he said amiably, a little huskily:

'Letter from a friend?'

'I beg your pardon? What did you say, dear?'

He raised his voice unnecessarily:

'I Said A LETTER FROM A FRIEND!'

She started. 'Oh yes! I heard this time.'

'Edith, I know of an excellent aurist in Bond Street. I wish you'd go
and see him. I'll give you the address.'

'I know of a very good elocutionist in Oxford Street. I think I would
go and have some lessons, if I were you, Bruce; the summer classes are
just beginning. They teach you to speak so clearly, to get your voice
over the footlights, as it were. I think all men require to study
oratory and elocution. It comes in so useful!'