When she could run no faster, my cousin gave up the attempt and stood waving her tiny handkerchief and then staring after the train.
As we came up, she turned to us bravely.
"I hope," she said shakily, "I hope he'll get on all right. He's such a child," she added, knitting her pretty brow. "I wish to goodness we were married. Then I could have gone with him." She stumbled, and I caught her. She looked up at me with her grey eyes swimming. "I've often seen you off, Boy, but I wasn't silly like this."
"It's a question of interest, darling. Piers is your very own pigeon."
Jill wiped her eyes thoughtfully.
"I suppose that's it," she said slowly. "My very own…. Boy, will you take me to a tailor's? I want to get a binder."
Ere we sat down to dinner that night, two stout body-belts had been dispatched to Paris by registered post.
* * * * *
"Satisfactorily," said Berry, restoring his napkin to his knees, "to consume oxtail, one should be stripped to the waist."
"That'll do," said Daphne.