"Miss Peasey," he said, when the housekeeper came in to see if he had finished breakfast, "my father is coming to stay here on Thursday."
Miss Peasey smiled encouragingly with the strained look in her eyes that always showed when she was hoping to find out from his next sentence what he had told her. Guy shouted his information over again, when, of course, Miss Peasey pretended she had heard him all the time.
"Well, that will make quite a little variety, I'm sure."
"Where will he sleep?" Guy asked.
Miss Peasey jumped and said that there, she'd never thought of that.
"Well, think about it now, Miss Peasey."
Miss Peasey thought hard, but unfruitfully.
"Could you borrow a bed in the town?" Guy shouted.
"Well, wouldn't it seem rather funny? Why don't you send in to Oxford and buy a bed, Mr. Hazlewood?"
Her pathetic trust in the strength of his financial resources, which Guy usually tried to encourage, was now rather irritating.