“I'll thank you not to make personal remarks about me, Mr Roger! What have you come home for, that's what I'd like to know? Not that I need to ask. Trust you to come nosing round after pickings! Talk about hyenas!” Wrath swelled her voice. She said strongly. “Just like you it is to try and take what's Master Kenneth's away from him! Don't tell me! If I had my way, back you'd go to where you came from, double-quick!”
“Yes,” said Antonia. “But he hasn't got any clothes, and he says he's going to stay with us.”
“Not in this house, he isn't!” said Murgatroyd.
“I shan't get in the way,” Roger assured her. “You'll hardly notice me.”
“No, not once you're the other side of the front door, I won't,” was the grim reply.
Violet got up from the table, and came slowly across the room. “Don't you think this is all a little undignified?” she said in her calm way. “Kenneth, dear, please stop prowling, and try to be reasonable. Poor Mr Vereker can't help not being dead, after all!” She smiled at Roger and added prettily: “They're an awful couple, aren't they? You mustn't pay any attention to what they say. And no one's offered you any tea! Would you like some?”
“No,” said Roger frankly, “but I shouldn't mind a whisky-and-soda if it happened to be handy.”
“Of course,” she said. “I'll get you one - since these rude people have forgotten their manners!”
Kenneth gazed at her in blank astonishment. “My good girl, do you realise what this means?” he asked. “Have you by any chance grasped who he is?”
“Yes, dear, perfectly,” replied Violet, going over to the side-board and opening one of the cupboards. “And if I can put a decent face on it, I think you might too. Will you say when, Mr Vereker?”