Luke’s ears moved. He kissed her twice. “But, you know, I cannot bear it. There are some words which I am unable to endure, such as salt-cellar, tuberculosis, tennis-net and den.”
“Very well,” said Mabel, a little coldly, “we’ll call it your cage. And just look. There is a pair of my father’s old slippers that I have brought for you. Size thirteen. You’ve got none quite like that, have you?”
He put one arm round her waist.
“Where did you say the dustbin was?” he asked.
“But,” she said amazed, “you don’t mean to say——Surely you wear slippers?”
“I never was,” he replied firmly. Nor did he.
“And now,” said Mabel, “come into the kitchen and see the two maids that I have engaged. Two nice respectable sisters named Morse—Ellen Morse and——”
“There isn’t an ‘l’ in Morse,” he said gloomily.
“And Kate Morse,” Mabel continued.