“I’ve not said it at all,” he replied, “if you will give me a chance to speak.”
“No, no!” she cried. “I won’t let you speak. You’ve said it, a satellite, you’re not going to wriggle out of it. You’ve said it.”
“You’ll never believe now that I haven’t said it,” he answered. “I neither implied nor indicated nor mentioned a satellite, nor intended a satellite, never.”
“You prevaricator!” she cried, in real indignation.
“Tea is ready, sir,” said the landlady from the doorway.
They both looked at her, very much as the cats had looked at them, a little while before.
“Thank you, Mrs Daykin.”
An interrupted silence fell over the two of them, a moment of breach.
“Come and have tea,” he said.
“Yes, I should love it,” she replied, gathering herself together.