“Exactly,” agreed her nephew. “And a good thing too. Look where it landed you.”
“Now you’re being rude and British, but I forgive you. And at any rate, I have lived.”
It was Noel’s turn to laugh scornfully.
“Lived! You surely don’t call that living? Junketing around Europe with a lot of bounders! Why, Connie, you little innocent, you’d have lived a whole lot more if you’d stuck to Humphries and brought up a family.”
She threw him an appealing look.
“You might remember that it’s my birthday,” she protested.
“Jove, that’s so. And I’m hungry. Let’s start walking toward Claridge’s.”
“Walk? It’s too far. We must have a taxi.”
“No, we mustn’t. Great Scott, Connie, we’ve only walked half a mile or so. What’ll you do in the next war?”
“Well, be nice to me then.” She gave in as she usually did. “You know I’m horribly worried. I may have to go back to Chiozzi almost any day. If he finds out where I am——”