When he brought her her tea she reached up, caught his hand, and held it for a moment against her cheek.
"One's own fireside is so much nicer than anyone else's," she said.
"We'll have a nice cosy talk presently. How is Luke to-day?"
"Not quite so flourishing. A brute of a dog howled in the night and woke him up. He didn't get his proper sleep afterwards."
"Poor old Luke! What a shame!"
"Yes, it made a difference. He has been having neuralgia down his spine nearly all day. I believe he's worrying too. I'm going back after dinner to see if I can do anything. I manage to read him to sleep sometimes, you know."
"Shall I come too?" said Dot.
"No." Bertie spoke with decision. "You had better go to bed yourself."
She made a face at him. "I shall do nothing of the sort. I shall sit up and do the Clothing Club accounts."
Bertie frowned abruptly. "Not to-night, Dot."
"Yes, to-night. They have got to be done, and I can think better at night."