‘Perfectly.’
‘Then why should we meet to discuss him if there is nothing to discuss?’
‘You mean that we might as well each read him for herself.’
‘I think it would be easier.’
‘Why, of course it would.’
And so after one hour of precarious life, Mrs. Hunt Mortimer’s Mutual Improvement Society for the elucidation of Browning came to an untimely end.
AN INVESTMENT
‘I want your advice, Maude.’
She was looking very sweet and fresh in the morning sunlight. She wore a flowered, French print blouse—little sprigs of roses on a white background—and a lace frill round her pretty, white, smooth throat. The buckle of her brown leather belt just gleamed over the edge of the table-cloth. In front of her were a litter of correspondence, a white cup of coffee, and two empty eggshells—for she was a perfectly healthy young animal with an excellent appetite.
‘Well, dear, what is it?’