“What, at your going to see a woman who perhaps needed your help? If she were up a moral tree, you might have done her some good.”
“I can’t bear to think I missed a chance of doing that. Walter,” she added, with a sigh, “sometimes I fear that I am very narrow.”
“No, dear, you are only a little prim Puritan, and I love you for it as I love you for everything; so please, Floggie, will you take me to Monte Carlo this Whitsuntide, or may I take you?”
“You are a wicked spendthrift, as bad as Aunt Anne; I believe it runs in the family. What is to be done with the children while we go to Monte Carlo?”
“We’ll leave them with the mother-in-law.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call my mother that horrid name.”
“I thought it would make you cross. I say, I really do wish we knew what had become of the Wimples.”
“I think they must be all right, somehow,” Florence said, “or else——”
“Or else she would have arrived to borrow a five-pound note. I wonder how Wimple likes it. Well, darling, I must be off to the office. It’s all agreed about Whitsuntide, then, Fisher permitting.”
“Go away,” Florence laughed; “go to the office, you bad person.”