“Certainly,” said his wife, with dignity. “What’s a broken leg or two?”
“No one would mind it, of course.”
“It will mend up all right, and it made Claudia listen to him. I should hope you would not have objected to breaking both legs on the day you proposed to me.”
He flicked the ash off his cigar.
“Nothing of the sort was necessary,” he remarked. “You were too happy.”
Lady Wilmot sighed.
“How little you know! I’ve never liked to tell you, but—you’re sure you won’t mind?”
“Go on.”
“As it happened, I tossed up.”
“Tossed up?”