"Oh, anything," she replied evasively. "Secretarial work when I can get it. And you? What shall you and your friends do now? But I suppose you will help Lord Chesby enjoy the life of an English country gentleman."
"For a while, yes," I agreed.
"And then?"
"I don't know. America, I suppose. One must earn a living."
"So you would leave him—Lord Chesby, I mean?"
I began to have a disagreeable feeling that I was being pumped.
"I can't stay here forever, you know," I retorted.
"Ah, but of course! And Lord Chesby? Will he marry an heiress, an American, perhaps? But no! He does not need money, they say."
"'They say' a great many things," I commented.
"It may be he did ill to leave America," she suggested. "One is so safe there. In Europe, who can say what the future holds? Russia is chaos. Turkey torn by war. Eastern Europe boiling. Germany thirsting for vengeance. Ah? Mr. Nash, were I an American I should stay at home."