“At last,” she said.
Crispin turned to Miss Cloke.
“My dear,” he said, “be careful. Have you ever seen him unshaved?”
“That,” said Eleanor, “is a pleasure to come.”
“Pleasure?” said Crispin. “Oh, she has got it bad. Never mind. Was you took ill gradual like, or was it all of a sudding that you came over queer?”
“To be perfectly frank,” said Eleanor, “I’ve always liked the look of him.”
Willoughby put up an eye-glass and inspected his prey.
“There is something rather winsome about that sheepish grin of his, isn’t there? D’you see what I mean, Madge? That David’s-my-name-but-call-me-Boris-look.”
“What a shame,” said his wife. “David, if I were Nell, I should be very proud.”
“I am,” said Eleanor. “When he seized me——”