He smiled down at her, shaking his head.
"Keep those roses," he said. "I'll get Miss Delamere some more."
"No, no, I want her to have them. Put your card in. Shall I write the address?"
Woolf was with Maggy when the post brought her the roses. He cut the string and stood looking on while she removed the tissue wrappings.
"Oh, roses!" she cried delightedly. "Who can have sent them?"
They had traveled as well as could be expected of cut flowers, but they were flagging a little for want of water.
Woolf pounced on the card that accompanied them.
"'Lord Chalfont,'" he read, and scowled at the club address in the corner. "Damn his impudence sending you flowers! And how the devil does he know your address?" he demanded angrily.
Maggy was perturbed at this outburst.
"You needn't mind, Fred," she said placably.