“Voules,” I said, “are you under the delusion that I’m going to be Queen of the May? You’ve called me early all right. It’s only just seven.”
“I understood you to summon me, sir.”
“I summoned you to find out why you were making that infernal noise outside.”
“I owe you an apology, sir. I am afraid that in the heat of the moment I raised my voice.”
“It’s a wonder you didn’t raise the roof. Who was that with you?”
“Miss Pilbeam, sir; Mrs. Vanderley’s maid.”
“What was all the trouble about?”
“I was breaking our engagement, sir.”
I couldn’t help gaping. Somehow one didn’t associate Voules with engagements. Then it struck me that I’d no right to butt in on his secret sorrows, so I switched the conversation.
“I think I’ll get up,” I said.