Suddenly Edith felt intensely bored. Madame Frabelle and Bruce were looking at each other with such intense sympathy, and she knew they would repeat in different words what they had said already. They were so certain to go over the same ground again and again!… Edith felt she was not wanted. But that didn't annoy her. She was merely thinking of an excuse to get away from them.
'By the way, how's Aylmer, Edith?' asked Bruce.
'Getting on well. I believe he's been ordered out of town.'
'To the seaside? For God's sake don't let him go to the east coast!'
'The east coast is quite as safe as any other part of England, I think.' said Madame Frabelle.
'Oh, he'll take his chance,' Edith replied.
'I expect he'll miss you, my dear,' said Bruce. 'You've been so jolly good to him lately.'
'Naturally,' said Madame Frabelle, a little quickly, very smoothly, and with what Edith thought unnecessary tact. 'Naturally. Anyone so kind-hearted as Edith would be sure to try and cheer up the convalescence of a wounded friend. Have a foie-gras sandwich, Edith?'
Edith felt an almost irresistible desire to laugh at something in the hospitable, almost patronising tone of her guest.
'Oh, Edith likes going to see him,' said Bruce to Madame Frabelle. 'So do I, if it comes to that. We're all fond of old Aylmer, you know.'