“Good-bye,” I answered, feeling somewhat offended. I heard her muttering words inside the room. They became louder:
“And like a dying lady, lone and pale,
Who totters forth wrapped in a gauzy veil.”
Mrs Moore opened her door.
“What is the matter with Augusta?” I said.
“Nothing; she is only reciting. She is mad on Shelley at present.—Good-bye, Gussie; I am going to see your friend, Miss Grant, to the Twopenny Tube.”
Augusta replied in a still louder rendering of the words:
“Art thou pale from weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth—”
We went into the street. Mrs Moore took me to the station, and saying she had something to do in another part of the street, she bade me on affectionate good-bye.
I returned to our own house, and when I got there I found Alex and Charley and Von Marlo, as we always called him, waiting for me.
“Then it’s quite true,” said Alex, “that we are to have the whole evening to ourselves? I have brought some grub in, and we are going to cook it ourselves in the parlour. You must help us, Dumps. It doesn’t matter how shabby your frock is; you have got to be the cook.”