“Have some muffin while it’s warm, Mater.”
Mother preferred bread and butter, thank you.
Conversation seemed to languish rather, until Mother made the important discovery that you got quite a nice view of the park.
“Toppin’!” said Mr. Philip.
“I’m afraid these flats must be dreadfully expensive,” said the Maternal One.
“Not for the position, Mater.”
Mother hoped not, at any rate.
“I hope you have noticed our Whistler, Lady Shelmerdine?” said Mary the demure.
Oh, where was the Whistler? Mother was so fond of canaries.
Calamity nearly overtook the muffin of Daughter-in-law. Happily it stopped at very nearly.