“And you ought to be at your work again.”
“I can practice here for Doctor Jaas. The Conservatory can wait.”
“You ought to go home!” her mother repeated.
Andrée frowned.
“Al’s just been telephoning, to ‘insist’ upon my coming home this evening. I suppose you think he’s right?”
“Yes.”
“You mean you’d like me to rush off like that?”
“Yes, I should.”
“I shan’t!” said Andrée. “I don’t suppose you’ll mind my waiting until to-morrow to pack my things?”
“If I were you, I should go with Alfred this evening—”