“London suits me,” he said, “and to-night I had London and Athens and you altogether. What had you and Manvers been talking about when I came in? You looked so grave.”
“Oh, nothing. He told me that he had known what fearful poverty was like.”
“Poor chap, yes. He doesn’t often speak of it. I’m awfully fond of him. He is nearly always amusing.”
“Yes, he seems clever,” said May.
Tom was silent a moment.
“Really I am a lucky devil,” he said. “I have everything I want. I have you first of all, and all life interests me and amuses me. And I’ve just paid my annual visit to the dentist.”
“Shall we go to Applethorpe for the Sunday?” asked May.
“Oh, I think not,” said Tom, “at least, unless you want to. I think Applethorpe would seem a little dull, don’t you?”
“Well, there are not so many things to do there as here, certainly,” said May, “and I suppose Mr. Manvers will be with us still.”
“I hope he will stop for a fortnight or more. It’s absurd his going to a hotel if we are in London.”