“Rehearsal?”
“Charity show. Barge along. This way.”
He grinned and followed her into the long library where she tossed bits of holly to and fro on the shelves. She said, “Cosmo Rand’s rehearsing us. Better not tell that to dad. He mightn’t like it.”
“Who’s Cosmo?”
“Cora Boyle’s husband. They’re playing here. Don’t get shocked about it.”
“Don’t see anything to get shocked about. So Cora Boyle’s over here again? What’s she playing?”
“A silly melodrama. She’s at the Diana. Saw her the other night. She’s getting fat. Ought to be a law against fat women wearing old rose.”
“You’ve lost some weight,” Gurdy said.
“Work, old thing, work! Sewing shirts for snipers. Dancing with convalescents.—It’s beastly you’ve got so tall. I hate looking up at men.”
Gurdy laughed down at her and asked, “When did Mrs. Ilden get to be Lady Ilden?”