“Only a treatise on economics—not at all interesting to most people, I assure you. You’d probably find it extremely tiresome.”
“How do you know?” she asked aggressively. She disliked his readiness to lump her among the “most people.” Also she was annoyed to think that what he said was probably true, that she would find it extremely tiresome. She had tackled his Village Community (the first chapter) and been unable to make head or tail of it.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I only think ... Mrs. Tebbutt!”
The summons was presumably to someone in the house. A female voice called “Yes!”
“Bring some tea outside, will you?” he sang out, and the voice within responded with a resigned, “Very well, sir.” ... Into an outhouse he plunged, and emerged with a deck-chair and cushions.
“Come on,” he said, and handed her the cushions to carry. “It’s pretty cool round by those shrubs.”
They strolled back over the lawn, and took up positions facing one another.
“Mind if I smoke?” he remarked, and before she could murmur a “Oh, not at all,” he had lit a cigarette and was puffing at it.
“Smoke yourself?” he then said.
“Thanks,” she replied, and took one out of a box of Egyptian cigarettes that lay on the ground beside him.