“All finished but the inside work.”
“Kitty?”
“All finished but the outside work.”
Miss Felicia looked up. “Your wife, I mean, you stupid fellow.”
“Yes, I know. She would have come with me but her dress didn't arrive in time.”
Miss Felicia laughed: “And the boys?”
“Still in Paris—buying bric-a-brac and making believe they're studying architecture and—But I'm not going to answer another question. Attention! Miss Felicia Grayson at the bar!”
The dear lady straightened her back, her face crinkling with merriment.
“Present!” she replied, drawing down the corners of her mouth.
“When did you leave home? How long will you stay? Can you come to dinner—you and Methusaleh—on Wednesday night?”