I was glad when he was gone. I could see that his good-tempered tolerance acted like a red rag to a bull as far as Kenneth was concerned, and I feared another explosion. Margaret departed to see after Ethel, and I went to the telephone to explain my lengthened holiday as well as I might to Brenda. I got through promptly, but I found my talk more difficult than I had anticipated. The line was clear and she was full of awkward questions.
“Are you in the finals, then?” she queried in a jesting voice that was anything but complimentary.
“No, but I am staying on over Thursday and perhaps until the end of the week.”
“But I thought you were to be in London on Friday?”
“That will have to be postponed. I can’t help myself. I shall get back as soon as I can, but it may not be till Saturday.”
“You do sound mysterious and not a bit as if you were enjoying yourself. What on earth’s the matter?”
“There’s nothing the matter and I’ll let you know more exactly when I shall be home as soon as I can. You must hold your curiosity in check until you see me.”
“Oh! I say,” and then with a giggle that sounded doubly inane over the wire, “have you gone and done it at last?”
I put the receiver down with a bang. Why on earth did Brenda always imagine that I was on the brink of a matrimonial adventure? She was nearly as bad as the diminutive Allport.
A bath and a change of clothes brought some relief from the depressing heat, but I had an encounter with Kenneth which went very far to nullify it, and I came to the conclusion that I had better leave matters alone and that peace would be attained only if those of us who differed could keep apart. He was coming out of the bathroom as I came out of my bedroom to go down-stairs, his dark blue dressing-gown open at the throat, and showing the splendid proportions of his chest. I asked if I could come along with him and have a chat while he dressed.