“No, he wouldn’t do that,” Clara said decidedly.
“I wonder if Aubrey’s right?” put in Clay. “I mean, do you think he can possibly have got the wind up, and made off somewhere?”
“Do, for heaven’s sake, learn to recognise a joke when you hear one!” begged Eugene wearily.
“Well, it’s all very well, but I don’t see —”
“Hush!” said Aubrey. “Can’t you see that your brothers are sick and tired of the sound of your voice, child?”
Clay said angrily: “Considering I’ve only made one remark during the past twenty minutes, I call that rich! You seem to think...”
“One remark in twenty minutes is all we have patience to bear,” said Aubrey firmly.
Clay got up, scraping his chair aggressively. “This place was bad enough before you came home, but it’s absolutely bloody now!” he said, and stalked out of the room.
“Well, that’s got rid of him,” said Aubrey, sinking into the most comfortable chair he could find.
“You shouldn’t tease the boy,” Clara said, shaking her head. “I daresay he won’t be here much longer.”