"That's the style," said Berry. "Let me know when it's going to appear, and I'll get a bedroom at the Club. When you've weeded the best out of the first hundred thousand, I'll come back and give the casting vote."
From behind, my sister put her arms about my neck and laid her soft cheek against mine.
"My dear," she murmured, "I daren't. Half the cooks in England would leave their situations."
"So much the better," said I. "All's fair in love and war. I don't know which this is, but we'll call it 'love' and chance it. Besides," I added cunningly, "we must knock out Katharine."
The light of battle leapt into my sister's eyes. Looking at it from her point of view, I realized that my judgment had been ill-considered. Plainly it was not a question of love, but of war—"and that most deadly." She drew her arms from my neck and stood upright.
"Couldn't you leave out my name and just put 'Box So-and-so'?"
I shook my head.
"That's so intangible. Besides, I think the telephone number's a great wheeze." Thoughtfully she crossed to the fireplace and lighted a cigarette. "I'll send it to-morrow," I said.
Suddenly the room was full of silvery laughter.
From Berry's side at the writing-table Jill looked up sparkling.