'No; I don't think so. It's the pink-shaded light.'
He sighed.
'Ah, suppose you had married a chap like Reeve—rolling in gold! Are he and Hyacinth happy, do you think?'
'I think they seem very happy.'
'We're lunching there on Sunday, aren't we? Don't forget to order me a buttonhole the day before, Edith.'
'I'll remember.'
She looked at her engagement-book.
'It's not next Sunday, Bruce. Next Sunday we're lunching with your people. You'll be sure to come, won't you?'
'Oh, ah, yes! If I'm well enough.'