"P.S.—I'm frightfully sorry about my birthday dinner. But I don't feel birthdayish or dinnerish, either. I want Ralph. Nothing but Ralph."
That would make Fanny think it was Ralph they had quarrelled about.
Barbara put this note on Fanny's dressing-table. Then she went up to the
White Hart, to Ralph Bevan. She waited in his sitting-room till he came
back from Oxford.
"Hallo, old thing, what are you doing here?"
"Ralph—do you awfully mind if we don't dine at the Manor?"
"If we don't—why?"
"Because I've left them. And I don't want to go back. Do you think I could get a room here?"
"What's up?"
"I've had a simply awful scrap with Waddy, and I can't stick it there.
Between us we've made it impossible."
"What's he been up to?"
"Oh, never mind."