"Well," said Ira, in self-defence, "I don't hear anybody sending for you." Wedgewood grinned at Ashton. "I rather fancy he had you theah, old top, eh, what?"
Ira appeared at number One, and bending over his treasure-trove, spoke in a voice that was pure saccharine: "Are you ready for breakfast, dear?"
"Come along to the dining-car."
"It's cosier here," she said. "Couldn't we have it served here?"
"But it'll get all cold, and I'm hungry," pouted the old bachelor, to whom breakfast was a sacred institution.
"All right, Ira," said Anne, glad to be meek; "come along," and she rose.
Ira hesitated. "Still, if you'd rather, we'll eat here." He sat down.
"Oh, not at all," said Anne; "we'll go where you want to go."
"But I want to do what you want to do."