"Oh, nothing. I was thinking—chap sent me tickets for private show—pity to waste 'em—Neil O'Donoghue's pictures, you know—"
"Oh, Ted, the Irish landscape man?"
He nodded.
"Teddie, you angel! Oh, I'll use your tickets. There's no false modesty about me, when you hold out a bait like that! Can we go now—now?"
"Rather! Look here, Nell, you—I mean you will let me— Jolly place just close by—give you ripping luncheons! You will all come, won't you?"
"Oh! Well, you know—"
"Oh, I say, be a brick, Nell!"
She laughed out.
"I was only hesitating because I felt I ought to! I won't be polite with you ever again, Ted! You do look so abjectly miserable. I'd love to end up like that!"
"That's all right. I'll just scoot round to the bank and tell Denis to meet us outside at half-past one. Will you all be ready when I get back?"