After a pause it was: "You aren't making much of a dinner, Leo. You say 'no' to everything. What's put you off your feed?"
"Too much afternoon-tea probably. No, it's not that," said Leo, correcting the fib. "I'm not hungry, that's all."
"This venison is awfully good. Where did it come from? You generally do have venison about this time, I know. I have eaten it here before in October."
"Have you?"
"Where does it come from?"—reiterated he.
"From an old cousin, Anthony Boldero. We have no one else who sends us venison."
"Respects to him. His venison is A1. Leo?"
"Well?" said Leo, in a hard, dry tone. She recognised what was coming.
"It isn't me, it isn't anything I've been saying that bothers you?"
But at the same moment Leo's neighbour on her other hand spoke to her.