“See it is posted at once,” he said; “I’ve addressed it to Miss Brown, and told her to type it and to post it on to the Review.”
“I’m sure I could start again,” said Kate, “let me do it as usual.”
But a slight eye trouble she had suffered from lately had made Hugh lock his sister’s machine for the time.
“Don’t waste time talking,” he said, “just send it to the post as it is.”
“Oh, very well,” said Kate, “Larkin can take it with him. Now go and shave instantly and, remember—your brown suit.”
All was managed so well that Hugh had nearly ten minutes to spare after lunch in [p203] which to smoke and luxuriate in the knowledge that all was well with him, his bag properly packed, his cap in his pocket, his flask filled, and money for the journey in the pocket of the suit on his back instead of in the one dangling in his wardrobe as had occurred before this, when Kate had not been there.
He looked at her gratefully. She was as good-tempered as ever; not in the least flustered or put out.
“Jove, K,” he said, “I should be a fool to marry. For real solid satisfaction give me a sister.”
“Why?” said Kate amusedly. “Do you think your wife wouldn’t pack your bag for you?”
He considered Bee for a moment in a wifely, packing attitude, then Dora.