“Oh! Let me see, when does she come?” She could have smiled at the quick turn of his head, and the carelessness of his voice. “Decent rooms?” he went on, dropping lumps of sugar into his tea.
“Very nice, I think. That sugar will begin to show at the top if you don’t stop.” Robert flushed, and dropped the sugar-tongs with a clatter.
“I’ve heard from Diana. She’s coming to-morrow.”
Robert leaned back in his chair, frowning, and felt for his cigarette-case. “I can’t think why you asked Diana,” he observed, irritably, “with Mayne coming, and—Miss Burton. She’ll expect to be asked up to dinner and things, I suppose. It’ll make a lot of work for the servants.”
“You are very considerate—for the servants.”
He moved restlessly and glanced at her, as he lighted his cigarette.
“Well, you know best, of course,” he began.
“Robert,” said Cecily, suddenly, “there’s something I want to say. And I want to say it before Diana comes, so that we—we may understand each other, and things may go smoothly—as I want them to go.”
His start of apprehension was not lost upon her. It had the effect of making her want to scream with laughter, and she tightened her grasp on the arm of her chair and went on quickly.
“We’ve been coming to this for a long time. Let us speak frankly this once, and afterwards let the matter alone. All that you’ve been saying lately, about the wider scope and broader interests necessary for your intellectual growth is just another way of explaining that you’re bored with me.”