“Will you please give me some orders?” he went on, smiling, seeing that she did not reply. “How has the mare been behaving?”
“She is rather tame—a little too much of the sheep in her composition.”
“She wants a companion. So do I—badly. There is a little village beyond the Lathom Woods—which has a cottage—for tea—and a strawberry garden. Shall we sample it?”
Constance shook her head laughing.
“We haven’t an hour. Everybody asks us to parties, all day and all night long. London is a joke to Oxford.”
“Don’t go!” said Falloden impatiently. “I have been asked to meet you—three times—at very dull houses. But I shall go, of course, unless I can persuade you to do something more amusing.”
“Oh, dear, no! We’re in for it. But I thought people came here to read books?”
“They do read a few; but when one has done with them one feels towards them like enemies whom one has defeated—and insults. I chucked my Greek lexicon under the sofa, first thing, when I got back from the schools this afternoon.”
“Wasn’t that childish—rather? I am appalled to think how much you know.”
He laughed impatiently.