"Why not?" said Mr. Gorst cheerfully.
"Well, it wasn't very gay for him before he married, and I don't imagine it's going to be any gayer now."
"Now" said Mr. Hannay, "I understand what's meant by the solemnisation of holy matrimony. That woman would solemnise a farce at the Vaudeville, with Gwen Richards on."
"She very nearly solemnised my dinner," said Mrs. Hannay.
"She doesn't know," said Mr. Hannay, "what a dinner is. She's got no appetite herself, and she tried to take mine away from me. A regular dog-in-the-manger of a woman."
"Oh, come, you know," said Gorst. "She can't be as bad as all that. Edith's awfully fond of her."
"And that's good enough for you?" said Mrs. Hannay.
"Yes. That's good enough for me. I like her," said Gorst stoutly; and Mrs. Hannay hid in her pocket-handkerchief a face quivering with mirth.
But Gorst, as he departed, turned on the doorstep and repeated, "Honestly, I like her."
"Well, honestly," said Mr. Hannay, "I don't." And, lost in gloomy forebodings for his friend, he sought consolation in whiskey and soda.