‘H’m! I’ll consider it,’ said Mr Martin. ‘I’m—I’m not such a young man as I was, Mrs Franklin.’
‘Oh, I’m sure, sir. Well, we’re none of us that, are we? I should take you,
sir, begging your pardon, to be but a very little way on the wrong side of forty.’
Mr Martin chuckled, and then grew grave.
‘On the wrong side of sixty,’ he said. ‘Now, now, no humbugging, I beg.’
‘Well, sir, about the packing. My head is all in a muddle, it is true, but any help that I can give’—
‘What do you say to a baize door?’ replied Mr Martin, rather irrelevantly.
‘I—I beg your pardon, sir?’
‘And a very thick curtain inside my room door? It is true I have heard it remarked that the wails of an infant when teething will penetrate through any obstacles. Still, a baize door inside your nursery door, and thick curtains inside mine would soften the disturbance—yes, would soften it. I was going to say that I would provide them.’