Grant was afraid that that was so.
"Don't you go to Olympia at Christmas? But you should! I'll get Mr. Mills to send you seats."
"Thank you. And how long have you been in love with this Togare?"
"Four years. I'm very faithful."
Grant admitted that she must be.
"Drop me at the Orient office, will you?" she said, in the same tone as she had announced her faithfulness. And Grant set her down by the yellow-funneled liner.
"Going cruising?" he asked.
"Oh, no. I go round the offices collecting booklets for Nannie. She loves them. She's never been out of England because she's terrified of the sea, but she likes to sit in safety and imagine. I got her some marvelous mountain ones from the Austrian place in Regent Street in the spring. And she's very knowledgeable about the German spas. Good-bye. Thank you for the lift. How shall I know when you come to Westover? For the ice, I mean."
"I shall send you word through your father. Will that do?"
"Yes. Good-bye." And she disappeared into the office.