“Yes, dear,” said Mrs. Heywood. She, too, was suffering mental tortures.
“Atkinson Brown. You will have a sandwich,” said Herbert.
He bent over to his visitor and spoke in a gloomy voice:
“Take one, for God’s sake.”
Atkinson Brown was startled.
“Yes! Yes! By all means,” he said hastily. Herbert handed the sandwiches about rather wildly. “Mother, you will have one, won’t you? Mrs. Atkinson Brown?... And one for me, eh?”
Mrs. Hargreaves eyed her host curiously.
“I hope your wife is not seriously unwell, Mr. Heywood.”
Herbert was losing his nerve.
“Can’t we talk of something else?” he said despairingly. “What is your handicap at golf?”