“Hullo, George,” said Guy’s voice. “Here’s a couple of visitors to see you, Monica and Alan. Cynthia has turned us out of the house. Can you entertain us?”
“Oh, yes,” said the unhappy George. “Oh, rather.”
“Hullo, George,” said Monica brightly.
“Hullo,” said George with a ghastly smile. “Er—hullo, Alan.”
“Hullo,” said Alan, a somewhat stout young man of fourteen.
The conversation then lapsed.
“Do you entertain us here, George?” Monica asked with interest. “If so, bring the piano out, too, and we’ll make an evening of it.”
“Oh, sorry,” George mumbled, and stood aside to let these most unwelcome visitors enter. He closed the front door softly upon all hope and led the way to the drawing-room.
The visitors stood upon the threshold of the drawing-room and looked inside with interest. George was improving as an entertainer, they felt. Even George forgot his sorrow for the moment too. For it appeared that Dora and her fiancé had not heard the door-bell. Indeed, unless they were trying to show off, it was quite evident that they had not.
It seemed a pity to spoil such an idyllic scene, but Alan Spence did so. He spoilt it with a guffaw. Alan’s guffaw might have been guaranteed to spoil any idyllic scene. It was not a taking guffaw.