“Double!” remarked Felix.
“The figures are variously given. My estimate—”
“One in sixty. That shows you!”
At this interruption of Derek's John frowned slightly. “What does it show you?” he said.
Derek glanced at his grandmother.
“Oh, nothing!”
“Of course it shows you,” exclaimed Sheila, “what a heartless great place it is. All 'the world' goes out of town, and 'London's empty!' But if you weren't told so you'd never know the difference.”
Derek muttered: “I think it shows more than that.”
Under the table Flora was touching John's foot warningly; Nedda attempting to touch Derek's; Felix endeavoring to catch John's eye; Alan trying to catch Sheila's; John biting his lip and looking carefully at nothing. Only Frances Freeland was smiling and gazing lovingly at dear Derek, thinking he would be so handsome when he had grown a nice black moustache. And she said:
“Yes, dear. What were you going to say?”