“But not that Lady Sunningdale goes to sleep after lunch. At least I don’t see how!”
Stella laughed too.
“You put it down to mere lunch?” she said. “But if one were disagreeable one might suggest that it was the conversation at lunch, not lunch itself, that led to the desire for repose. How rude of me!”
Martin looked across to the cedar; he was quite willing that Lady Sunningdale’s need for repose should not yet be satisfied.
“But I thought you settled that it was your efforts to amuse her that produced that result,” he said.
The sound of Stella’s laughter perhaps roused Lady Sunningdale, for she moved in her chair and suddenly sat bolt upright.
“Ah, she is awake,” said Stella. “We can peashoot each other no longer. What a pity!”
“But that at least is very polite of you,” said Martin, rising.
“And that is very modest,” she answered. “It might have been true.”
Shrill, staccato cries came from the cedar as the two walked back across the hot velvet of the lawn.