“No. Aren’t I unfashionable?”
“You’re delightful.”
“Good-bye,” she said, holding out her hand.
He took it, and held it, saying:
“And now I sha’n’t see you again until a few minutes at the party, and heaven knows when after that.”
“I’ll bring Madeline. Shall I?”
“Oh yes, do. It’ll be some party, as the Americans say, and Charlie won’t be there.”
“Good-bye again.”
“What are you going to wear?” he asked, in his old, brotherly voice, lingering by the door.
“Salmon-coloured chiffon with a mayonnaise sash,” she answered, fairly pushing him out of the room. “Do go.”