"Beau will be giving one for Innes," Hasselt said. "To celebrate Arlinghurst."
"As a matter of fact, we're all giving a party for Innes," a Disciple said.
"A sort of general jamboree," said a second Disciple.
"It's an honour for College, after all," said a third.
"You'll come to that, won't you, Miss Pym," said a fourth, making it a statement rather than a question.
"Nothing would please me more," Lucy said. And then, glad to skate away from such thin ice: "What has happened to Beau and Innes?"
"Beau's people turned up unexpectedly and took them off to the theatre in Larborough," Stewart said.
"That's what it is to own a Rolls," Thomas said, quite without envy. "You just dash around England as the fit takes you. When my people want to move they have to yoke up the old grey mare-a brown cob, actually-and trot twenty miles before they reach any place at all."
"Farmers?" Lucy asked, seeing the lonely narrow Welsh road winding through desolation.
"No, my father is a clergyman. But we have to keep a horse to work the place, and we can't have a horse and a car too."