“——months ago, but I wasn’t ready. I stayed on here for nobody’s convenience but my own, I can tell you.” It was Edgar who said this. Then a woman’s voice—
“I don’t think this waistcoat’s worth taking; I’ve patched and patched it——”
“Oh, chuck it under the bed. And I say—we’ve had nothing to eat. Make the cocoa, will you?”
“Just a minute till I finish this bag.—What’ll Pratt say when he comes back?”
“As I shan’t be here to hear him, it’s hardly worth while guessing.”
“Will Wilkinson take it over?”
“The ‘Novum’?... I don’t think there’ll be any more ‘Novum.’ I suppose these London Indians will be holding a meeting. I don’t like ’em, but let’s be fair to them: most of ’em are all right. They’ve got to dissociate themselves from this Collins business somehow. But I expect some lunatic will go and move an amendment.... Well, it won’t matter to us. We shall be well down the Channel by that time.”
Then the girl gave a low laugh.—“I do think you might buy me a trousseau, Ned—the way it’s turned out——”
The man’s voice grunted.