The kettle continued to puff vigorously.
“If they don’t come soon,” said Audrey, “the water will be all boiled away and the kettle burnt. Suppose we make the tea?”
Madame Piriac raised her eyebrows.
“It is your country,” she repeated. “That appears to be singular, but I have not the English habits.”
And she sat down, smiling.
Audrey opened the tea caddy, put three spoonfuls of tea into the pot, and made the tea.
The clock struck on the mantelpiece. The clock was actually going. Aguilar was ever thorough in his actions.
“Four minutes to brew, and if they don’t come we’ll have tea,” said Audrey, tranquil in the assurance that the advent of Aguilar could not now be long delayed.
“Do you take milk and sugar, darling?” she asked Madame Piriac at the end of the four minutes, which they had spent mainly in a curious silence. “I believe you do.”
Madame Piriac nodded.