“Very good,” said Edith, “you’ve put me out. Seven and thirteen and six——”
Hugh inhaled several long breaths of tobacco smoke in quick succession, and coughed.
“I’m sure that isn’t due to——” began Edith, when she remembered Hugh’s threat.
“I don’t know,” said she. “I beg your pardon.”
“This is the Taming of the Shrew,” remarked her husband.
“Yes, dear, but do be quiet for two minutes and let me add up. Go on—warming your hands at the fire.”
There was silence for perhaps half a minute, and then Hugh threw the cigarette he had only just begun into the fire.
“Edith, you are such a kill-joy,” he said. “You completely spoiled all my pleasure in smoking, so I may just as well throw it away as not. Oh, do finish your accounts and come and talk.”
Edith finished her addition in the sketchiest manner, and drew a cheque that was certainly in excess of the total.