"How condescending of him!" she commented drily. "If he comes—then exit
Penelope."
"You're an ideal chaperon, Penny," murmured Nan with approval.
"Chaperons are superfluous women nowadays. And you and Maryon are so nearly engaged that you wouldn't require one even if they weren't out of date."
"Are we?" A queer look of uncertainty showed in Nan's eyes. One might almost have said she was afraid.
"Aren't you?" Penelope's counter-question flashed back swiftly. "I thought there was a perfectly definite understanding between you?"
"So you trot tactfully away when he comes? Nice of you, Penny."
"It's not in the least 'nice' of me," retorted the other. "I happen to be giving a singing-lesson at half-past five, that's all." After a pause she added tentatively: "Nan, why don't you take some pupils? It means—hard cash."
"And endless patience!" commented Nan, "No, don't ask me that, Penny, as you love me! I couldn't watch their silly fingers lumbering over the piano."
"Well, why don't you take more concert work? You could get it if you chose! You're simply throwing away your chances! How long is it since you composed anything, I'd like to know?"
"Precisely five minutes—just now when I was in the kitchen. Listen, and
I'll play it to you. It's a setting to those words of old Omar: