"About Prothero?"
"No, not about Mr. Prothero. About that serial——"
"What serial?"
"My serial. Your serial," said she.
Brodrick said he wasn't going to talk shop on Sunday. He wanted to forget that there were such things as serials.
"I wish I could forget," said she.
She checked the impulse that was urging her to say, "You really ought to marry Gertrude."
"I wish you could," he retorted, with some bitterness.
"How can I?" she replied placably, "when it was the foundation of our delightful friendship?"
Brodrick said it had nothing whatever to do with their friendship.