"Dear Miss Keeves! So good of you to call!" cried Miss Meakin, not a little affectedly, so Mavis thought, as she raised her hand high above her head to shake hands with her friend in a manner that was once considered fashionable in exclusive Bayswater circles.
She then opened the door wide enough for Mavis to edge her way in. Mavis found herself in an apartment that was normally a pretentiously furnished drawing-room. Just now, a lately vacated bed was made up on the sofa; a recently used washing basin stood on a chair; whilst Miss Meakin's unassumed garments strewed the floor.
"And what's happened to you all this long time?" asked Miss Meakin, as she sat on the edge of a chair in the manner of one receiving a formal call.
"To begin with, I'm married," said Mavis hurriedly, at which piece of information her friend's face fell.
"Any family?" she asked anxiously.
"N-no—not yet."
"I could have married Mr Napper a month ago—in fact he begged me on his knees to," bridled Miss Meakin.
"Why didn't you?"
"We're going to his aunt's at Littlehampton for the honeymoon, but I'm certainly not going till it's the season there."
Mavis smiled.