"I calculate," he said, "on about fifty more good dinners which I shall not pay for, and then, of course, I shall think myself well fed at my own expense in an Italian café somewhere. I think Italian, don't you? Dinner at two shillings! There is an air of spagghetti and onions that conceals the nature or age of the meat; and the coffee is amazingly good. One might be able to find one with a clean cloth."
Most of these remarks were made almost to himself.
"You know it isn't true," Molly said angrily; "you know you will get a good post. Men like you are always given things."
Edmund helped himself very carefully to exactly the right amount of melted butter. "Don't you eat asparagus?" he interjected, and, without waiting for an answer, went on:
"I thought so too, but I can't hear of a job. There are too many of the unemployed just now. However, no doubt, as you say, I shall soon be made absolute ruler of some province twice the size of England."
He laughed and smoothed his moustache with one hand.
"Down with dull care, Miss Dexter; let us make a pact never to be bored—in Bloomsbury, or West Africa, or Park Lane. I suppose you found a great deal to do to that dear old house?"
After that their other neighbours claimed them both; but during dessert Molly, against her will, lost hold of the talk on her right, and had to listen to Edmund again.
"I hear that you have got the old Florentine looking-glasses from my sale."
"I don't think they were from your sale," said Molly hastily.