“Please.”
“Milk?”
“Thanks.”
“Sugar?”
“No.”
“Buns?”
“One.”
And then they sat and gazed at one another, slowly champing buns in which they took no interest whatever. After twenty minutes Lady Tyburn said: “My chauffeur has had no tea. He must drive to Gallows and have tea at once. Will you come too?”
“As far as the gates,” he said. “I’ll walk back. I’m not coming in.”