“All right, old chap,” said Pryce. “I couldn’t come before because Miss Auriol had hold of my right hand when she went to sleep, and I didn’t want to wake her again. Simple enough, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid she’s given you a cramp in your right arm,” said Lechworthy.
“It wouldn’t prevent me from holding a knife and fork,” said the doctor.
“That’s good,” said the King. “We will have supper together.” In another second he would have clapped his hands.
“No noise,” said Pryce, quickly.
“Right. I will go and fetch servants myself.”
Lechworthy also rose and went through the French windows. Dr Pryce stretched himself at full length in a chair and closed his eyes. He was rather more worn out than he would have admitted.
He opened his eyes again as Lechworthy came back on to the verandah with a glass in his hand. “I’ve ventured,” said Mr Lechworthy. “Supper won’t be ready for a few minutes. Whisky-and-soda, eh?”
“Good idea,” said Pryce, taking the glass. “All the same, I don’t want you to run about waiting on me.”