“Finished?” She smiled at him pleasantly with an air of temporarily relinquishing her book, of being very ready to return to it though, if he did not want to talk. She had been well drilled.
However, he was communicative.
“There was hardly anything—I’m not taking much. Oh, by the way—I’ve left some boots—to be re-soled—in trees—you might tell Mother. At least——”
“Oh, I’ll see to it,” said Laura easily. “Heeled too?”
“I think so. Oh—and there are some things—in the wardrobe—want seeing to—want cleaning.” He elaborated his directions.
A pause ensued, the inane pause that so often preludes a leave-taking. He walked about the room. She read her book. The clock ticked between them, saying ‘your turn—your turn,’ and each waited for the other to speak.
Justin bethought himself first.
“I say—what about the trap? Has somebody told Robert?”
Laura nodded.
“I told him. Four o’clock. Time enough?”