"Dash it, are there people everywhere to-day? I can't get a moment to myself. 'O solitude, where——'"
"What are you going to do with baby?"
"Peter and I are going for a walk." My eyes rested on her for more than a moment. She was looking at me over an armful of flowers ... and—well—"You can come too if you like," I said.
"I've got an awful lot to do," she smiled doubtfully.
"Oh, if you'd rather count the washing."
She sat down next to me.
"Where's Dahlia?"
"I don't know. We meant to have left a note for her, but we came away in rather a hurry. 'Back at twelve. Peter.'"
"'I am quite happy. Pursuit is useless,'" suggested Myra. "Poor Dahlia, she'll be frightened when she sees the perambulator gone."
"My dear, what could happen to it? Is this Russia?"