“What a poor little bet!” Mrs. Plant laughed. “I wouldn’t have taken it if I’d known it was going to be so unremunerative.”
“Well, I’ll throw in a bottle of scent to go with it, shall I?”
“That would be better, certainly.”
“Better stop there, Sheringham,” Jefferson put in. “She’ll have got on to gloves before you know where you are.”
“Oh, I’m drawing the line at scent. What’s your favourite brand, by the way, Mrs. Plant?”
“Amour des Fleurs,” Mrs. Plant replied promptly. “A guinea a bottle!”
“Oh! Remember, I’m only a poor author.”
“Well, you asked for my favourite, so I told you. But that isn’t the one I generally use.”
“Ah, now we’re getting warmer. Something about elevenpence a bottle is more like my mark.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to pay just a little more than that. Parfum Jasmine; nine and sixpence. And it will serve you right.”