'I see,' said Edith again.

'I can't decide whether to ask him here or not,' said Bruce, walking up
and down the room in agitation.

'Well, suppose we leave it till tomorrow. You can make up your mind
then,' she said good-naturedly.

Edith was dressed, when she found Bruce still in the throes of an
agitated toilet. Having lost his collar-stud, he sat down and gave
himself up to cold despair.

'You go without me,' he said in a resigned voice. 'Explain the
reason--no, don't explain it. Say I've got influenza--but then perhaps
they'll think you ought to look after me, and--'

'Here it is!' said Edith.


In the cab he recovered suddenly, and told her she looked awfully
pretty, which cheered her very much. She was feeling rather tired. She
had spent several hours in the nursery that day, pretending to be a baby
giraffe with so much success that Archie had insisted upon countless
encores, until, like all artists who have to repeat the same part too
often, she felt the performance was becoming mechanical.




CHAPTER VII