"But why aren't you at the studio?"
He answered evasively. "Oh—I chucked that idea."
"But listen to me. You were to have got married, weren't you?"
"Oh—Audrey chucked that," he replied, pushing his cup away.
"Chucked it altogether, do you mean?"
"Looks like it," he grunted. "Let's talk about something else."
But, looking round the untidy room again I wondered whether it would not be better for him to talk about precisely that. Even an active smart was preferable to sloth and helplessness of that kind, and there is something very lovable about Monty at his best.
"No, no," I said. "Much better get it off your chest. And look here, my friend, you haven't shaved this morning. That sort of thing doesn't help. Talk about something else? No, let's talk about this. Where is Mrs. Cunningham?"
"I think Buxton this week. Haven't looked at the Era. She's on tour if you must know."
"But why? Why are things—like this? Surely there's a reason?"