'Maybe they'll say you take boarders,' observed Mr. Van Torp facetiously. 'That other piece belongs to you.'
While talking they had finished their tea, and only one slice of bread and butter was left in the sandwich-box.
'No,' answered Lady Maud, 'it's yours. I took the first.'
'Let's go shares,' suggested the millionaire.
'There's no knife.'
'Break it.'
Lady Maud doubled the slice with conscientious accuracy, gently pulled the pieces apart at the crease, and held out one half to her companion. He took it as naturally as if they had been children, and they ate their respective shares in silence. As a matter of fact Mr. Van Torp had been unconsciously and instinctively more interested in the accuracy of the division than in the very beautiful white fingers that performed it.
'Who are the other people going to be?' he asked when he had finished eating, and Lady Maud was beginning to put the tea-things back into the basket.
'That depends on whom we can get. Everybody is awfully busy just now, you know. The usual sort of set, I suppose. You know the kind of people who come to us—you've met lots of them. I thought of asking Miss Donne if she is free. You know her, don't you?'
'Why, yes, I do. You've read those articles about our interview in New
York, I suppose.'