horses."

"That's only an excuse," said Lady Marayne. "Everybody's afraid of
horses and nobody's really afraid of horses."

"But I'm not used to horses. You see--I live on my mother. And she
can't afford to keep a stable."

His hostess did not see his expression of discomfort. Her pretty
eyes were intent upon the peas with which she was being served.

"Does your mother live in the country?" she asked, and took her peas
with fastidious exactness.

Prothero coloured brightly. "She lives in London."

"All the year?"

"All the year."

"But isn't it dreadfully hot in town in the summer?"

Prothero had an uncomfortable sense of being very red in the face.
This kept him red. "We're suburban people," he said.

"But I thought--isn't there the seaside?"

"My mother has a business," said Prothero, redder than ever.

"O-oh!" said Lady Marayne. "What fun that must be for her?"