Mrs. Ingram looked upwards across the room at a corner of the ceiling, and smiled faintly.
"You might," she said, "begin by asking Mr. Cannon if he particularly wants to be burdened with the weight of your secrets, my dear child."
"Oh! I particularly do," said George.
"There's no secret about it—at least there won't be soon," said Laurencine.
Lois spoke simultaneously:
"My dear mother, please call George George. If we call him George, you can't possibly call him Mr. Cannon."
"I quite admit," Mrs. Ingram replied to her eldest, "I quite admit that you and Laurencine are entitled to criticise my relations with my husband, because he's your father. But I propose to carry on my affairs with other men just according to my own ideas, and any interference will be resented. I've had a bad night, owing to the garage again, and I don't feel equal to calling George George. I've only known him about twenty minutes. Moreover, I might be misunderstood, mightn't I, Mr. Cannon?"
"You might," said George.
"Now, dad!" Laurencine admonished.
Mr. Ingram, addressing George, began: