“And Daisy Quantock? Is it still spiritualism?”
“No; that’s over, though I rather think it’s coming back. After that it was sour milk, and now it’s raw vegetables. You’ll see to-morrow at dinner. She brings them in a paper bag. Carrots and turnips and celery. Raw. But perhaps she may not. Every now and then she eats like anybody else.”
“And Piggy and Goosie?”
“Just the same. But Mrs. Antrobus has got a new ear-trumpet. But what I want to know is, why did Lucia send across for my manual on Auction Bridge? She thinks all card-games imbecile.”
“Oh, Georgie, that’s easy!” said Olga. “Why, of course, Brompton Square, though nothing’s settled. Parties, you know, when she wants people who like to play Bridge.”
Georgie became deeply thoughtful.
“It might be that,” he said. “But it would be tremendously thorough.”
“How else can you account for it? By the way, I’ve had a listening-in put up at Old Place.”
“I know. I saw them at it yesterday. But don’t turn it on to-morrow night. Lucia hates it. She only heard it once, and that time it was a lecture on pyorrhœa. Now tell me about yourself. And shall we go into the drawing-room? Foljambe’s getting restless.”
Olga allowed herself to be weaned from subjects so much more entrancing to her, and told him of the huge success of the American tour, and spoke of the eight weeks’ season which was to begin at Covent Garden in the middle of May. But it all led back to Riseholme.