"He promised to take us for a drive today. That is the dot and dash alphabet father and he are using. If dad requires all the dots I'm sure Jack is monopolizing the dashes. He must be furious about this gale."
Constance, who wanted to pinch Enid severely, had reverted to her normal healthy hue by this time. She dropped her glasses.
"We are shamefully wasting precious minutes here," she said. "Enid, you and I ought to be in the kitchen."
Then she glanced with cold self-possession at Pyne, who was whistling softly between his teeth as he plied the duster.
"As for you," she said, "I never saw anyone work so hard with less need."
He critically examined the shining burner.
"We Americans are taught to be strenuous," he said smilingly. "That is the only way you can cut in ahead of the other fellow nowadays, Miss Brand."
She almost resigned the contest. That unhappy explanation had delivered her bound into his hands. Yet she strove desperately to keep up the pretence that their spoken words had no ulterior significance.
"Such energy must be very wearing," she said.
"It is—for the other man."