"I don't wish to be paid compliments, Mr. Tomes," she said. "Please don't try to think of any. Did you come to take my husband out?"
Mr. Tomes stammered, visibly crestfallen.
"Well," he began, "there is a certain archway in one of the smaller churches, which I think Mr. Milbanke ought to see. But as an archway is not too weighty for a lady's consideration, it struck me—it occurred to me——"
But Clodagh cut him short.
"Oh, Mr. Tomes, I'm much too frivolous even for archways. Don't take me into your calculations; I should only spoil them. Of course it's very kind of you," she added with tardy remorse, "but the experiment would be a failure. Ask my husband——"
Milbanke looked distressed.
"Oh, my dear——" he began.
But Clodagh's nerves were jarred.
"I know!" she broke in—"I know it's awfully kind of Mr. Tomes! But I couldn't go to see an archway to-day. I couldn't. I really—really couldn't."
Mr. Tomes relapsed into a state of pompous offence.