"Well, I had felt sure you were up to something, that you had some scheme in your head, some plan for to-day. But I didn't connect it with sausages."
Her expression changed slightly.
"Perhaps it isn't only sausages. But it begins with them. Are you hungry?"
"Yes, very. I've been walking in Battersea Park."
"Claudie, how awful!"
They sat down and fell to—Charmian's expression. She was playing at the Vie de Bohème, but she thought she was being rather serious, that she was helping to launch Claude in a new and suitable life. And behind the light absurdity of this quite unnecessary meal there was intention, grave and intense. The wasted two months must be made up for, the hours given to the French Revolution be redeemed. This meal was only the prelude to something else.
"Is it good?" she asked, as Claude ate and drank.
"Excellent! Where have you been to-day?"
"I've seen Madre and Susan Fleet."
"Miss Fleet at last."