“The same,” said Eve.
“There you are,” said Broke. “I told you not to have it. You cannot introduce a relic of the Stone Age into a super-flat. It can’t be done. If you must have a circus leading out of your bedroom, the only thing to do is to set it right up and then build a house round it.”
“We’re off,” said Eve, bubbling.
Jeremy swallowed.
“What’s the trouble?” he demanded.
“Won’t empty,” said Eve. “I’m—I’m having it taken away.”
“Taken away?” cried Broke.
“Well, filled in or something. I don’t know what the process will be. I simply said it was to be washed out and an ordinary bath put in its place.”
“Why on earth?”
“Because experience has shown me that your advice was good. Between you and me, it nearly always is—though why you keep on giving it me when I only chuck it away, Heaven only knows. I should have got mad months ago. I think you must be very—very strong, Jeremy. At least, I’m very conscious of being the—the weaker vessel.”