'It would be better than nothing. We'll see presently.'
'Might I inquire if you live on cigars and coffee?'
'No,' he answered satirically; 'I live on eau sucré. And porreege. I'm
Scotch.'
'I can't talk to you if you're so silly.'
'You'll tell me the important part on the little sofa upstairs in the salon,' he said. 'After dinner. Tonight, here, somehow, the food and the faces distract one—unless one is making an acquaintance. I know you too well to talk at dinner.'
'Quite true. I ought to take time to think then.'
'There's no hurry. Good heavens! the man has waited four years; he can wait another week. Quelle idée!'
'He's going back,' said Edith, 'as soon as he's well. He wants me to promise before he goes.'
'Does he! You remind me of the man who said to his wife: "Good-bye, my dear, I'm off to the Thirty Years' War." It's all right, Edith. We'll find a solution, I have no fears.'
She turned to Mr Mitchell.