"Yes, but from a call-box down the road. I was on my way here."
"But why on earth didn't you tell me?"
"Would it have made any difference?"
"Of course it would ... I wouldn't have lied about going out if I'd known you were so near. Only you said you wanted a talk, and I felt so absolutely incapable of talking that I didn't think it worth while to drag you all the way from the City."
"Nevertheless, now I'm here—if you don't mind—I do want a talk with you."
"All right. Let's have some tea first." She rang a small silver hand-bell and then chattered languidly until the maid came. "Geoffrey's having tea in his study with that surgeon man from Chicago. I hate their scientific talk—that's why I came away."
I asked her if all the arrangements had been made for the operation, and she told me it was to take place the following Wednesday in a nursing-home.
"This afternoon is purely a social visit, I suppose?"
"Oh, purely social. They were discussing Abdominal Section when I left.... Why don't you go and join them? I'm sure you'd find their conversation much more enlivening than mine."
I said I would prefer hers, if she didn't object. Then the tea came, and we touched on other matters. She was very flippant and cynical, especially about the projected new house. "It's going to cost heaps of money, and when I've lived in it a fortnight I know I shall long for a flat in Dover Street.... I'd be bored with it already but for the excuse it gives me to see Terry."