'And am I to tell her it's a subsequent one? Otherwise she'll wonder we
didn't mention it before.'

'Don't be in a hurry, dear. Don't rush things; remember... she's my
mother. Perhaps to you, Edith, it seems a rather old-fashioned idea,
and I daresay you think it's rot, but to me there's something very
sacred about the idea of a mother.' He lit a cigarette and looked in
the glass.

'Yes, dear. Then, don't you think we really ought to have kept our
promise to dine with her? She'll probably be looking forward to it. I
daresay she's asked one or two people she thinks we like, to meet us.'

'Circumstances alter cases, Edith. If it comes to that, Aylmer Ross has
got two or three people coming to dine with him whom he thinks we might
like. He said so himself. That's why he's asked us.'

'Yes, but he can't have asked them on purpose, Bruce, because, you see,
we didn't know him on Thursday.'

'Well, why should he have asked them on purpose? _How_ you argue! _How_
you go on! It really seems to me you're getting absurdly exacting and
touchy, Edith dear. I believe all those flowers from the embassy have
positively turned your head. _Why_ should he have asked them on
purpose. You admit yourself that we didn't even know the man last
Thursday, and yet you expect--' Bruce stopped. He had got into a slight
tangle.

Edith looked away. She had not quite mastered the art of the inward
smile.