"And this," I said, "this is my mother's daughter! We have been nursed together, scolded together, dandled in the same arms. If she had not been the stronger of the two, we should have played with the same toys."
I groaned again. Berry opened his eyes.
"The value of a siesta upon a summer afternoon—" he began.
I cut in with a bitter laugh. "What's he going to do?" I said.
"Take a stall, of course," said Daphne.
"Is he?" said Berry comfortably. "Is he? If motoring with Jonah to Huntercombe, and playing golf all day, is not incompatible with taking a stall on Thursday, I will sell children's underwear and egg cosies with eclat. Otherwise—"
"Golf," I said, "golf! Why don't I play golf?"
"I know," said Berry; "because—"
"Miserable man!" said Daphne.
"Who?" said her husband.