“Surely,” said Elaine, making a note on her desk-pad. “Who’s he?”
“A governor of the Bank of England. . . . En grande toilette, my dear, which becomes you so well.”
“Thanks. Hardly in the best taste at a club reception, is it?”
“Of course not. But all the other women will. We can let it be inferred that we are going on to something else, and get out early. . . . Have one of mine?”
“Thanks, I prefer these common ones.”
Lighting up, Joe dropped into a deep chair, and stretched his legs luxuriously. “Young Taswell?” he said; “how is he making out with the kid?”
“I can’t honestly say that he’s doing Sturges any good,” said Elaine; “but at least he’s doing him no harm.”
“Rather a fantastic idea, don’t you think? giving the kid a tutor at the age of six?”
“Well, I thought he ought not to be entirely in the hands of women. I have read Pastor Witt’s book on education. It is wonderful what can be done with them at such an age. But of course Sturges is different. . . . I wasn’t thinking of education so much, as of the masculine influence generally.”
“I would be no good as a nursery companion,” said Joe. “No use pretending.”