The man bowed and withdrew. Rochester half closed his eyes, but opened them again almost immediately. A white clad figure was passing down the path on the other side of the lawn. He roused himself to a sitting posture.
“Lois!” he called out. “Lois!”
She waved her hand, but did not stop. He rose to his feet and called again. She paused with a reluctance which was indifferently concealed.
“I am going down to the village,” she said.
He crossed the lawn towards her.
“I will be a model host,” he said, “and come with you. It is always the function of the model host, is it not, to neglect the whole of the rest of the guests, and attach himself to the one most charming?”
She shook her head at him.
“I dare not risk being so unpopular,” she declared. “Really, don’t bother to come. It is such a very short distance.”
“That decides me,” he answered, falling into step with her. “A short walk is exactly what I want. For the last few days I have been oppressed with a horrible fear. I am afraid of growing fat!”
She looked at his long slim figure, and laughed derisively.