"Engaged? My dear Ingeborg."
The Bishop was alarmed for her sanity. She really looked very strange. Had they been giving her too much gas?
His tone became careful and humouring. "How can you," he said quietly, "have become engaged in these few days?"
"Much may happen in a week," said Ingeborg. It jumped out. She did try not to say it. She was unnerved. And always when she was unnerved she said the first thing that came into her head, and always it was either unfortunate or devastating.
The Bishop became encased in ice. This was not hysteria, it was something immeasurably worse.
"Be so good as to explain," he said sharply, and waves of icy air seemed to issue from where he stood and heave through the room.
"I'm engaged to—to somebody called Dremmel," said Ingeborg.
"I do not know the name. Do you, Marion?"
"No, oh, no," breathed Mrs. Bullivant, her eyes shut.
"Robert Dremmel," said Ingeborg.