“Good lord!”
“Well, how about Mrs. Brewster?” She tightened the corners of her lips as Gita dropped into a chair and stared at her.
“Elsie! What an idea!”
“Fine idea. She would do for the rest of the year, and you’re coming to us in January.”
“Elsie? She’s about the only person I could live with.”
“Quite so. Think it over.”
“But—if she’d come.”
“She will when I put it up to her. I’ve only met her twice; once here, and the other night at a dinner Eustace gave, but she made me wish I knew her better. I’d like an excuse to call on her and if you say the word I’ll tackle her today.”
“She can’t work anywhere but in her study.”
“That’s the way Eustace talks. Sounds to me like bally rot, as our English friends say, but I suppose your geniuses know their own business. Anyhow, she could write at home and spend the rest of her time here. That mother of hers wouldn’t miss anybody, from all accounts.”