Dodo looked at him in consternation.
"Oh, but that will never do," she said. "You've got to wind me up, darling, and stimulate me incessantly until I perk up again and hold myself upright. At present I feel precisely like one of those extremely frail-headed snowdrops—I always despised snowdrops—and wish I had remained comfortably underneath the ground, and hadn't come up at all. We shall never get on if you mean to be a snowdrop too! Jack, you can't be a snowdrop: I never saw anyone so unlike a snowdrop. You really mustn't attempt to imitate anything that you resemble so little. I might as well try to be a penny-in-the-slot machine!"
Jack had taken a cigarette and held it unlit as he looked about.
"Do try," he said. "I happen to be in want of a box of matches."
"I daresay you do," said Dodo, "but I'm not in want of snowdrops. You must think of me, Jack."
He took a coal out of the hearth with the tongs, lit his cigarette and singed his moustache.
"My job is over too, as well as yours, Dodo," he said, "and I'm damned if I want to have another job of any sort. I believe the railwaymen are going to strike next week——"
"My dear, we must get up to town before that happens," said she.
"I don't see why. What's the use of going anywhere, or doing anything? I'm quite in sympathy with people who strike. Why shouldn't I sit down if I choose and do nothing? I have worked hard; now I shall strike."
Dodo gave him a quick, sidelong glance.