"Oh, ever so good. Good unbelievably. Kind.... Frightfully interested in the insect world of human beings. Considerate—as few men are considerate—to the poor creatures who live around him."
"And very tolerant of Claudia," pursued Mrs. Mayne, turning to Patricia. "Oh, dear, this fish is over-cooked, Rachel, and I particularly.... However, it's no good grumbling.... I hope you'll like it, my dear. We have a very good fishmonger, and a very good cook, too; but ... Edgar, I wish you'd speak for yourself. Claudia will give Miss Quin such a peculiar...."
"He doesn't care ..." Claudia looked across at her brother. "Do you?"
Patricia could tell that he did not care. He was quite unconcerned. A slight grimness came into her expression. She wished him less unconcerned. She would have liked to believe in Edgar's susceptibility to pain. As it was, he seemed invulnerable. Patricia turned once more to Claudia with great sympathy and friendliness.
"I think your idea's very attractive," she said. "About the division."
Mr. Mayne gave a short, rather sardonic laugh.
"Wine's corked," he remarked. "Take it away, Rachel. And bring another bottle. With the chill off. Properly. Not roasted...."
Patricia lost her head. A tremulous twitching seized the corners of her mouth. She tried to control herself, and became desperate in the effort. In another instant she felt that she must giggle. Fortunately there came a diversion which saved her.
"Miaow!" cried Percy, from outside the door.