"Hilloa, Ninian!" Roger murmured, without looking up.
Magnolia entered with Ninian's breakfast and placed it before him.
"Anything in the Times?" Ninian said, pouring out coffee.
"Usual stuff. The bacon's salt!..."
The time, Ninian thought, was hardly suitable for a few home-thrusting words on the subject of marriage, so he reminded Roger that he was going to Southampton.
"Tom Arthurs has promised to show me over as much of the Gigantic as we can manage in a couple of hours. That won't be as much as I'd like to see, but I'll try and go over her when she comes back from New York. Any mustard about?"
"You'll be back again to-night, I suppose?"
"Probably. You're right ... this bacon is salt, damn it!"
Roger rose from the table and moved to the window where he stood for a while looking out on the garden. It seemed to Ninian that in a moment or two he would speak of his engagement, and so he sat still, waiting for him to begin.
"Well," said Roger, turning away from the window and feeling for his watch, "I must be off. So long, Ninian!"