“Yes, Jebb’s not literal enough for me. I like to get at the real meaning of—— Oh!”
The sofa cushion flew out of the window and lay on the grass below. When Reggie turned round Ealing was absorbed in his book.
“Where’s the pencil?” asked Reggie.
“There isn’t any,” said Ealing.
“Well, I must go and pick that cushion up. What a lot of time you’ve made me waste. Also go to Severs’s and buy a new pencil. I can’t work without.”
“This is all the thanks I get,” said Ealing bitterly.
“No, I’m awfully obliged to you, but it hasn’t done me much good, you know. You see you acted with the best intention, which is always fatal. Where’s my cap?”
“I should think you could borrow a pencil,” said Ealing.
Reggie considered a moment, with his head on one side.
“I think not. It would be better to get one of my own. Then I shall have one, you see. Come with me?”