"Sell White Ladies?" cried Jill.
Berry nodded.
"Not only lock and stock, but barrel too. Yes," he added bitterly, "the old water-butt must go."
"Look here," said I. "It occurs to me that this isn't a case for a letter. We ought to go and choose a bath properly."
"That's rather an idea," said Daphne.
"Simply sparkling," said her husband. "Personally, I've got something better to do than to burst down to South London, and stagger round floor after floor, staring at baths."
"You needn't worry," said Daphne coolly. "I wouldn't go with you for a hundred pounds."
Berry turned to us others.
"Yet we love one another," he said, with a leer in his wife's direction. "In reality I am the light of her eyes. The acetylene gas, as it were, of her existence. Well, well." He rose and stretched himself. "I wash my hands of the whole matter. Note the appropriate simile. Install what cistern you please. If approached properly, I may consent to test the work when complete. Mind you spare no expense."
"We don't propose to," said Daphne.