Would she come out to lunch?
Oh, yes, any day except Wednesday and Saturday, when she had to play.
So the very next morning they lunched at Dieudonné’s, and everything seemed perilously pleasant.
Punctual to the minute! How delightful to have a table in the corner! The restaurant of all others she liked to lunch at; and lark and oyster pudding and Chablis, the fare above all others that she coveted.
Comparisons are odious, but really...!
Didn’t he think Granny was wonderful? And really quite great in her day. A link with the past, of whom the profession was very proud.
Was Miss Caspar never tired of the theater? Wasn’t it an awful grind? Didn’t she ever want a night off? When she felt as cheap as she must have been feeling a fortnight ago last Saturday, didn’t she just want to turn it up?
Perhaps—sometimes. But then her motto was Nelson’s, never to know when you were beaten. It was Nelson’s motto, wasn’t it? Besides, having two thousand people in your pocket gave you such a sense of power. And then the princely salary, a hundred pounds a week, and next year it was going to be doubled. She really didn’t know how she would be able to spend it.
Why spend it at all? Why not invest it at four and a half per cent.?
Oh, yes—for a rainy day!