"Then come and chaperon me in the kitchen. Don't leave me alone with Jane. You and I and Jane will assemble round the oven and discuss the matter. B-r-r-r. It's cold."
"Not the kitchen. I'll assemble with you round the electric light somewhere. Come on."
We went into the library and rallied round a wax vesta. It was a terribly cold morning.
"I can't think like this," I said, after fifteen seconds' reflection. "I'm going to the office. There's a fire there, anyway."
"You wouldn't like a nice secretary," said Celia timidly, "or an office girl, or somebody to lick the stamps?"
"I should never do any work if you came," I said, looking at her thoughtfully. "Do come."
"No, I shall be all right. I've got shopping to do this morning, and I'm going out to lunch, and I can pay some calls afterwards."
"Right. And you might find out what other people are doing, the people you call on. And—er—if you should be left alone in the drawing-room a moment ... and the coal-box is at all adjacent.... You'll have your muff with you, you see, and—— Well, I leave that to you. Do what you can."
I had a good day at the office and have never been so loth to leave. I always felt I should get to like my work some time. I arrived home again about six. Celia was a trifle later, and I met her on the mat as she came in.
"Any luck?" I asked eagerly, feeling in her muff. "Dash it, Celia, there are nothing but hands here. Do you mean to say you didn't pick up anything at all?"