'Well, at any rate, she has come back—I've just had a letter—Hyacinth wants me to go out with her this afternoon and hear all about it. At four. I can, of course; it's the day you rehearse, isn't it?'
Bruce waited a minute, then said—
'Curious thing, you can't get our cook to make a hot omelette! And we've tried her again and again.'
'It was a hot omelette, Bruce—very hot—about three-quarters of an hour ago. Shall I order another?'
'No—oh, no—pray don't—not for me. I haven't the time. I've got to work. You have rather a way, Edith, of keeping me talking. You seem to think I've nothing else to do, and it's serious that I should be punctual at the office. By the way—I shouldn't go out with Hyacinth today, if I were you—I'd rather you didn't.'
'Why not, Bruce?'
'Well, I may want you.'
'Then aren't you going to the Mitchells'?'
'The Mitchells'? No—I am certainly not going to the Mitchells'—under the present circumstances.'
He threw down a piece of toast, got up, and stood with his back to the fire.